SHAKESPEARE'S 
MIDSUMMER  NIGHT'S  DREAM. 


i 

i 

I 


SHAKESPEARE'S 

MIDSUMMER 
NIGHTS  DREAM. 

THE  FIRST  QUARTO, 

1600 : 

A  FAC-SIMILE  IN  PHOTO-LITHOGRAPHY, 


WILLIAM  GRIGGS, 

FOR  13  YEARS  PHOTO-LITHOGRAPHER  TO  THE  INDIA  OFFICE. 

WITH  INTRODUCTION  BY 

J.  W.  EBSWORTH,  M.A., 

EDITOR  OF  "the  '  drolleries'  OF  THE  RESTORATION  ;"  "  THE  BAGFORD 
BALLADS        "  THE  ROXBURGHE  BALLADS,"  ETC. 


LONDON : 

W.  GRIGGS,  Hanover  Street,  Peckham,  S.E. 
1880. 


DEDICATED 

TO  HIS  GRACE 

C6e  Dufie  of  Detjonsftire: 

CHANCELLOR  OF  CAMBRIDGE  UNIVERSITY: 

BY  THE  EDITOR. 


\Shakspere-Quarto  Facsimiles,  No.  3.] 


INTRODUCTION 

to  the  photo-lithograph  of 
Fisher's  Quarto  Edition,  1600: 
A  MIDSUMMER  NIGHT'S  DREAM. 


1.  The  Two  Quartos  of  1600. 

2.  Mentioned  by  Meres,  1598. 

3.  The  Date  of  the  Comedy. 

4.  Supposed  allusion  to  Gree?ie, 

1592. 

5 .  Spenser's  Faerie  Queejie,  1596. 

6.  Pyramus  and  Thisbie,  1584, 

etc. 


§  7.  North^s  Plutarch,  i579* 
Theseus. 

§  8.  77^^  Fairies:  Oberon  and 
Titania. 

§9.  The^'Cretu  of  Patches;' ''Bot- 
tom's Dream.'" 

§10.  Conclusion:  The  Three-fold 
Plot. 


§  I.  The  Two  Quartos  of  1600. 

|N  the  Registers  of  the  Stationers'  Company,  vol.  C  =  3, 
fol.  65  versoy  is  found  the  earliest  known  record  of  the 
publication  in  printed  form  of  "A  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream:"— 

[a.d.  1600.]    8  Octobris. 

Thomas  ffyssher  Entred  for  his  Copie  vnder  the  handes  of  master 
RoDES  /  and  the  Wardens,  A  booke  called  A 
Mydsommer  nightes  Dreame  vj*^  ^ 

Students  require  absolute  fidelity  in  the  reproduction  of  such  rare 
originals.    We  therefore  offer  them  this  volume  without  any  tamper- 

'  Edward  Arber's  Transcript  of  the  Registers  of  the  Conpaity  of  Stationers,  &c., 
iii.,  174.  This  entry  undoubtedly  refers  to  the  Quarto  here  reproduced  in  its 
integrity  from  an  exemplar  in  the  possession  of  the  Duke  of  Devonshire.  A  few 
pages  deficient  in  the  original  (viz.  i8,  19,  20,  21;  58,  59,  60,  61=  eight  pp.) 
are  supplied  in  the  photo-lithograph  from  Mr.  Huth's  own  copy.  The  Bodleian 
Library  and  the  Capell  Collection,  in  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  possess  the 
same  edition.  There  is  also  another  perfect  exemplar  in  the  British  Museum, 
Case  34,  k.  29. 


4:9179 


vi  INTRODUCTION, 

ing  whatever.  Even  the  mutilated  head-lines  are  left  as  they  were 
shorn  by  some  reckless  bookbinder.  The  crease  in  the  paper  of  the 
title-page  (causing  omission  of  two  letters,  a  and  h)  is  a  defect  in 
the  Devonshire  copy.  Of  course,  the  other  broken  or  imperfectly- 
inked  letters,  etc.,  are  in  facsimile  of  the  original. 

For  purposes  of  reference  it  is  sufficient  that  we  number  the  lines  of 
the  Quarto^  in  fours,  on  the  inside  margin ;  and  also  mark  the  division 
of  Acts ^  which  is  given  in  the  Folio,  but  not  in  either  Quarto.  We  add 
a  list  of  characters,  on  a  separate  page,  preceding  the  title,  from  a 
later  edition. 

Like  others  of  the  early  typographers  and  publishers,  Thomas 
Fisher  indulged  himself  with  a  pictorial  rebus  and  verbal  synonyme 
on  his  own  name.  As  may  be  seen  in  our  reproduction  of  the  title- 
page,  he  gives  a  King-fisher  or  Halcyon,  "Alcione,"  with  the  motto 
"Motos  soleo  componere  fluctus."^ 

Another  Quarto  edition  was  issued,  by  James  Roberts,  bearing  date 
of  the  same  year,  1600;  but  of  this  publication  no  record  is  entered 
in  the  Stationers'  Registers.  For  the  Introduction  to  the  photo- 
lithographic facsimile  of  this  other  edition  may  well  be  reserved  a 
consideration  of  the  chief  verbal  difierences  between  these  two 
Quartos,  and  also  the  relation  they  bear  to  the  first  Folio  of  1623  j  the 
editors  whereof  had  certainly  availed  themselves  of  Roberts's  printed 
copy,  although  they  professed  to  have  had  access  to  some  manuscript 
original,  if  we  are  to  take  their  announcement  literally.^  At  the  best, 
they  employed  a  playhouse  copy,  which  was  composed  of  Roberts's 
printed  Quarto,  with  additional  stage  directions,  etc.,  in  manuscript. 
These  statements  are  supported  by  proofs  in  our  Introduction  to  the 
second  Quarto. 

'  Fisher  must  have  been  proud  of  obtaining  the  favour  of  being  allowed  to  print 
this  play-book,  his  very  earliest  recorded  publication,  w^ithin  a  few  months  after 
gaining  his  freedom. 

Compare  the  address  to  the  readers  of  the  first  Folio,  1623,  signed  by  John 
Heminge  and  Henrie  Condell :  .  .  .  "  Where  (before)  you  were  abus'd  with  diuerfe 
ftolne,  and  furreptitious  copies,  maimed,  and  deformed  by  the  frauds  and  ftealthes 
of  iniurious  impoftors,  that  expos'd  them  :  euen  thofe,  are  now  offer'd  to  your  view 
cur'd,  and  perfect  of  their  limbes ;  and  all  the  reft,  abfolute  in  their  numbers,  as 

he  conceiu'd  them  wee  haue  fcarfe  receiued  from  him  a  blot  in  his 

papers."    (Sheet  sign.  A  3.) 


INTRODUCTION. 


vii 


§  2.    Mentioned  by  Meres,  1598. 

Two  years  earlier,  at  least,  the  comedy  was  known  and  popular  on 
the  stage.  Francis  Meres,  in  the  memorable  list  contained  in  his 
Palladis  Tamia :  Wits  Treasury  ;  being  the  Second  part  of  Wits  Com- 
monwealth, September,  1598,  fol.  281-2,  mentions  "Shakespeare 
among  English  is  the  most  excellent  ...  for  the  stage;  for  Comedy 
witnes  ...  his  Midsummers  nights  dream,''  etc.  This  is  the  earliest 
distinct  reference  to  the  play,  which  may  have  been  several  years 
before  the  public  for  anything  yet  shown  to  the  contrary.  It  is  the 
fifth  comedy  in  the  list  of  six ;  the  others  being  almost  certainly  of 
earlier  date  than  this. 

§  3.    Date  of  the  Comedy. 

Among  conjectural  theories,  one  seemed  plausibly  to  establish  the 
date  as  immediately  following  the  wet  summer  of  1594.  Numerous^ 
are  the  contemporary  accounts  of  the  floods,  the  damaged  fruit  and 
endangered  harvest  of  that  year.  Dr.  Forman's  Ashmolean  MS., 
No.  384,  gives  such  a  description  of  the  rainy  season  and  the  damage 
that  ensued  as  might  suffice  anew  for  a  meteorological  diary  of  1879. 
Stowe  chronicles  the  same  events,  and  the  statement  is  copied  into 
Penkethman's  Artachthos,  1638.  In  the  Lectures  on  Jonah,  delivered 
at  York  in  the  same  year,  1594,  by  the  Rev.  John  King  (afterwards 
D.D.,  1 60 1,  and  Bishop  of  London,  161 1),  are  passages,  often 
quoted,  which  refer  to  the  unkind  spring  "by  means  of  the  abun- 
dance of  rains  that  fell ;  our  July  hath  been  like  to  a  February ;  our 
June  even  as  an  April;"  and  "such  unseasonable  weather  and  storms 
of  rain  among  us,  which  if  we  will  observe,  and  compare  it  with  that 
which  is  past,  we  may  say  that  the  course  of  nature  is  very  much  in- 
verted; our  years  are  turned  upside  down;  our  summers  are  no 
summers ;  our  harvests  are  no  harvests ;  our  seed-times  are  no  seed- 
times ;  for  a  great  space  of  time  scant  any  day  hath  been  seen  that 
it  hath  not  rained  upon  us ;  and  the  nights  are  like  the  days." 
{Lectures  upon  Jonah,  delivered  at  York,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1594: 
by  John  King,  afterwards  Lord  Bishop  of  London.    Reprinted  by 


viii 


INTRODUCTION. 


James  Nichol.   Edinburgh,  4to.,  1864.)    In  the  second  Lecture  he 
had  said,  and  pointedly  in  reference  to  "the  year  of  the  Lord  1593, 
and  1595:" — "The  months  of  the  year  have  not  yet  gone  about, 
wherein  the  Lord  hath  bowed  the  heavens,  and  come  down  amongst 
us  with  more  tokens  and  earnests  of  his  wrath  intended,  than  the 
agedest  man  of  our  land  is  able  to  recount  of  so  small  a  time.  For 
say  if  ever  the  winds,  since  they  blew  one  against  the  other,  have 
been  more  common,  and  more  tempestuous,  as  if  the  four  ends  of 
heaven  had  conspired  to  turn  the  foundations  of  the  world  upside 
down ;  thunders  and  lightnings,  neither  seasonable  for  the  time,  and 
withal  most  terrible,  with  such  effects  brought  forth,"  &c.  {Ibid., 
j"^p.  21.)    We  agree  with  Thomas  Kenney  in  believing  that  "The 
I  detailed  enumeration  made  by  Titania,  in  Act  ii.  sc.  i  [our  p.  14, 
1  line  84,  to  p.  15,  line  113],  of  the  elemental  convulsions  which  [had] 
\  followed  her  quarrel  with  Oberon,  seems  to  contain  an  unmistakable 
i  allusion  to  the  unseasonable  and  disastrous  weather  with  which  we 
l^know  that  England  had  been  visited  during  that  year."    {Life  and 
Genius  of  Shakespeare,  1864,  p.  175.)    The  Rev.  Alexander  Dyce 
harshly  designated  the  supposition  of  any  such  intended  allusion  to 
the  weather  of  1594  as  "ridiculous,"  but  he  also  thus  characterized 
"not  less  so"  any  specific  identification  of  the  mourning  by  the 
thrice-three  Muses, 

"  For  the  death 
Of  learning,  late  deceast  in  beggary." 

(P.  53,  lines  50,  51.) 

§  4.  The  Supposed  Allusion  to  Greene,  1592. 

P  Nevertheless,  it  is  by  no  means  improbable  that  Shakespeare  did 
here  refer  to  the  blighted  career  and  untimely  death,  in  1592,  of  that 
Robert  Greene,  who  had  made  scurrilous  allusion  to  his  rival  as  "  an 

I  absolute  Johannes  Fac-totum,"  and  *'  in  his  owne  conceit  the  onely 
Shake-scene  in  a  countrie."  {Groatsworth  of  Wit,  p.  30.)  It  seems 
generally  forgotten  by  book-learned  critics,  who  are  for  the  most  part 
unfamiliar  with  the  actual  stage-management  and  the  resources  of 
dramatic  authorship,  that  many  a  "  telling  "  allusion  to  contemporary 


INTRODUCTION.  ix 

events  would  be  profitably  foisted  in  (like  a  new  verse  on  the  day's 
occurrences  in  a  "  topical  song  ")  during  the  run  of  a  drama,  or  on 
its  revival.^ 

Therefore,  even  when  we  are  able  with  precision  to  determine  that 
some  particular  allusion  must  have  referred  to  an  event  of  ascertained 
date,  we  are  not  materially  helped  to  a  discovery  of  the  original  date 
of  the  work  itself ;  only  to  the  fact  of  ift  being  not  later  than  the  date 
thus  established.  Oberon's  description  may  have  been  intentionally 
appropriated  to  the  wet  summer  of  1594  (and  in  such  case  it  was 
written  and  spoken  before  the  "fair  harvest"  in  August,  mentioned 
by  Stowe,  had  partly  compensated  for  the  previous  floods).  But  this 
by  no  means  proves  that  the  fairy  Comedy  could  not  have  been  ' 
acted  earlier  without  that  description ;  that  it  was  so  acted,  although  • 
possible,  is  far  from  probable.^ 

"The  thrice-three  Muses  mourning  for  the  death  of  Learning,"  | 
etc.,  cannot  have  been  an  allusion  to  Spenser's  "Tears  of  the  Muses,"  1 
1 591;  for,  we  are  expressly  told,  "That  is  some  Satire  keene  and 
critical.  Not  sorting  with  a  nuptial  ceremony:"  a  description  inap-  . 
plicable  to  the  Spenserian  complaint.    Spenser's  death  was  not  until 
January,  159I-. 

The  supposed  imitation  in  "Doctor  Dodypoll,"  1600 — 

'  In  most  cases  this  interpolation  would  be  what  is  called  the  actor's  "gag;" 
but  where  the  author  happened  to  be  in  connection  with  the  theatre,  a  share- 
holder and  performer,  close  at  hand,  he  would  himself  occasionally  add  fresh 
lines  when  deemed  expedient.  Thus  Hamlet  intended  to  insert  "a  speech  of  some 
dozen  or  sixteen  lines,"  in  the  Gonzago  play.  Some  passage  similarly  dangerous 
or  seditious  may  have  been  interpolated  in  "Richard  the  Second,"  at  the  time  of 
Essex's  ill-starred  tumult  in  1600, 

^  It  need  not  be  deemed  conclusive  against  the  supposition  of  Robert  Greene 
having  been  thus  indicated,  that  his  death  (in  September,  1592)  was  an  event  too 
far  back  to  be  remembered  by  the  audience.  Greene  had  secured  many  admirers, 
and,  as  J.  O.  Halliwell-Phillipps  shows,  his  miserable  death  "was  a  subject  of 
general  conversation  for  several  years,  and  a  reference  to  the  circumstance,  though 
indistinctly  expressed,  would  have  been  well  understood  in  literary  circles  at  the 
time  it  is  supposed  the  comedy  was  produced."  (Privately-printed  Memoranda 
on  the  Midswmner  Nighfs  Dream,  p.  20,  1879.)  In  confirmation  of  this  state- 
ment we  must  remember  that  even  so  late  as  1598  Greene's  name  was  still  em- 
ployed as  a  popular  spell  to  enforce  attention,  for  John  Dickenson  thus  uses  it  in 
more  than  the  title  of  his  Greene  in  Conceipt:  new  raised  from  the  Graue  to 
write  the  Tragique  Historie  of  faire  Valeria  of  London."  This  novel  was  probably 
of  later  date  than  the  production  of  Shakespeare's  comedy.  It  was  reprinted  in 
1879  by  Dr.  Grosart,  among  his  valuable  "  Occasional  Issues." 


B 


X 


INTRODUCTION. 


"  'Twas  I  that  lead  you  through  the  painted  meades, 
Where  the  Hght  fairies  daunst  upon  the  flowers, 
Hanging  on  every  leafe  an  orient  pearle,"  etc. — 

is  of  doubtful  value  in  reference  to  date ;  although  the  comedy  was 
mentioned,  by  Nash,  in  1596  :  the  language,  moreover,  maybe  deemed 
too  loose  and  general  to  be  cited  as  an  imitation  or  parallel-passage.^ 

§  5.    Spenser's  Faerie  Queene,  1596. 

A  far  more  important  clue  is  furnished  by  the  ripe  scholarship  of 
J.  O.  Halliwell-Phillipps,  in  his  valuable  and  most  recent  Memoranda 
on  the  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream,  1879.  It  is  but  fair  to  this 
life-long  student  of  Shakespearian  literature  to  quote  the  passage 
entire,  the  more  especially  as  the  Memoranda  are  privately  printed 
for  a  very  limited  circulation  : — 

"There  seems  to  be  a  certainty  that  Shakespeare,  in  the  composi- 
tion of  the  Midsummer  Nighf  s  Dream,  had  in  one  place  a  recollection 
of  the  sixth  book  of  The  Faerie  Qiieene,  published  in  1596,  for  he  all 
but  literally  quotes  the  following  Hne  from  the  eighth  canto  of  that 
book, — ''Through  hils  and  dales,  through  hushes  and  through  breres^ 
{Faerie  Queene,  ed.  1596,  p.  460.)  As  the  Midsummer  Nighfs 
Dream  was  not  printed  until  the  year  1600,  and  it  is  impossible  that 
Spenser  could  have  been  present  at  any  representation  of  the  comedy 
before  he  had  written  the  sixth  book  of  The  Faerie  Queene^  it  may 
fairly  be  concluded  that  Shakespeare's  play  was  not  composed  at  the 
earliest  before  the  year  1596,  in  fact,  not  until  some  time  after 
January  the  20th,  1595-6,  on  which  day  the  Second  Part  of  The 
Faerie  Queene  was  entered  on  the  books  of  the  Stationers'  Company. 
The  sixth  book  of  that  poem  was  probably  written  as  early  as  1592 
or  1593,  certainly  in  Ireland,  and  at  some  considerable  time  before 
the  month  of  November,  1594,  the  date  of  one  entry  of  publication  of 
the  Amoretti,  in  the  eightieth  sonnet  of  which  it  is  distinctly  alluded 

'  To  Puck  the  Fairy  says  (p.  12,  lines  10,  11)  : — 

' '  I  must  goe  seeke  some  dew  droppes  here, 
And  hang  a  pearle  in  euery  couslippes  eare. " 

So  far  as  it  proves  anything,  the  resemblance  in  "Doctor  Dodypoll" indicates  that 

Midsummer  Night'' s  Dream  was  not  later  than  1 596. 


INTRODUCTION.  xi 

to  as  having  been  completed  previously  to  the  composition  of  the 
latter  work."    {Memoranda,  pp.  6,  7.) 

We  admit  the  virtual  identity  of  the  passage  quoted  from  Spenser, 
with  Puck's  speech  (our  p.  12,  line  2,  Act  ii.  sc.  i)  : 

"  Ouer  hill,  ouer  dale,  thorough  bush,  thorough  brier." 

If  we  could  feel  it  to  be  certain  that  the  Spenserian  Hne  (written 
before  1594)  suggested  the  Shakespearian,  the  test  would  be  de- 
cisive :  to  us  it  indicates  anew  the  date  1594- 

Malone  attributed  the  date  of  A  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream  to 
1594;  Dr.  Nathan  Drake  to  1593;  Professor  Delius  to  1595; 
Chalmers  to  1598.  Recently,  attempts  have  been  made  to  claim 
so  early  a  date  as  1590-91  :  which  claim  the  present  writer  holds  to 
be  inadmissible,  and  in  opposition  to  external  evidence.^  Fortu- 
nately, the  garrulity  of  Meres  has  determined  the  latest  possible  date 
as  being  1598.  This  leads  us  tolerably  near  to  the  real  date:  pro- 
bably 1593-94,  at  earliest ;  and  not  later  than  1596.^ 

§  6.    Pyramus  and  Thisbie,  1584,  etc. 

No  material  help  in  regard  to  the  date  of  the  comedy  is  afforded 
by  consulting  the  possible  sources  of  the  Interlude.  The  story  of  the 
two  lovers  had  for  several  years  been  popular,  not  only  in  direct 
translations  of  Ovid  by  Golding  and  others,  but  more  especially  in 
"  A  new  Sonet  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbie  :  to  the  Tune  of  The  Downe- 
right  Squier,"  beginning,  "  You  Dames  (I  say)  that  climbe  the  mount 

^  We  omit  consideration  of  what  are  called  "verse-tests."  At  present,  the 
theories  based  on  these  are  (in  the  opinion  of  scholars  of  established  reputation, 
with  whom  we  hold  agreement, )  often  misleading.  In  passing,  let  it  be  remarked, 
only,  that  the  light-ending  or  weak-ending  lines  are  almost  wholly  absent ;  and  so 
are  the  run-on  lines.  The  continuity  of  rhyme,  in  many  lines  repeated,  is  remark- 
able in  Titania's  and  Oberon's  speeches,  adding  to  their  musical  impressiveness. 

^  Two  hitherto-unnoticed  entries  in  the  Stationers'  Registers  deserve  attention, 
as  indicating  some  connection  with  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream.  To  Thomas 
Creede  (who  published  several  of  Shakespeare's  plays,  more  or  less  irregularly)  is 
entered,  on  the  14th  of  May,  1594,  "a  booke  intituled  the  Scottish  story  of  JAMES 
the  FOURTHE,  slayne  at  Flodden,  intermixed  with  a  plesant  Comedie  presented  by 
OBORON Kinge  of  Fayres.'^  Again  (as  probably  helping  to  suggest  by  contrast- 
the  name  of  Shakespeare's  own  comedy,  which  must  have  been  in  his  mind,  if  not 
in  great  part  written),  to  Edward  White  is  entered,  on  the  22nd  of  May,  1594,  "a 
book  entituled  a  Wynters  nightes pastime.''''    (Cf.  Transcript,  ii.  648,  650.) 


xii 


INTRODUCTION. 


of  Helicon."  It  is  by  I.  Thomson,  and  contained  in  Clement  Robin- 
son's A  Handefull  of  pleasant  Delites  ;  containing  sundrie  new  Sonets 
and  delectable  Histories  in  diuers  kindes  of  Meeter.  1584.  Than  this 
there  is  scarcely  a  book  of  which  clearer  proof  remains  that  it  had 
been  seen  and  was  used  by  Shakespeare.  An  earlier  edition  of  it 
was  issued  in  1565,  but  whether  ^'Pyramus  and  Thisbie"  be  one  of 
"the  new  additions  of  certain  Songs  to  vejie  late  deuised  Notes,"  it 
would  be  difficult  to  prove.  In  any  case,  the  one  extant  edition  (a 
unique  copy,  and  mutilated,  sheet  sign.  B.  vi.  being  defective,^)  is  of 
too  early  a  date  to  guide  us,  having  been  issued  before  Shakespeare 
is  beheved  to  have  left  Stratford.^ 


§  7.    North's  Plutarch,  1579:  Theseus. 

Howard  Staunton  repudiates  the  theory  which  assigned  the 
groundwork  of  the  fable  to  Chaucer's  "  Knight's  Tale,"  declaring 
that  "there  is  scarcely  any  resemblance  whatever  between  Chaucer's 

^  The  present  Editor  was  fortunate  enough  to  discover  and  identify  a  fragment 
(leaf  D.  2)  of  the  earlier  edition  in  the  Bagford  Collection  at  the  British  Museum 
(Case  39  K.  vol.  i.  p.  83),  hitherto  unknown :  and  to  print  it  in  the  Ballad 
Society's  Bagford  Ballads,  p.  43.  In  the  Stationers'  Registers  is  an  entry  to  Rich, 
lohnes  of  the  very  book,  in  1564-5.  The  Shakespearian  connection  is  indisputable. 
{Ex.  grat.  sheet  sign.  A.  ii.  verso,  "  Rosemarie  is  for  remembrance,"  and  Fenel 
is  for  flatterers  : "  compare  Hamlet,  Act  iv.)  In  this  respect  it  is  noteworthy  that 
we  find  a  silly  blundefr  (on  sheet  sign.  C.  ii.),  "At  last  they  promised  to  meet  at 
prime,  by  Minus  well"  {sic)\  which  suggests  the  Ninnies  tomb"  of  Flute,  as 
Thisbie  of  the  Interlude. 

^  Long  before  Shakespeare's  interlude,  **a  tedious  briefe  Scene  of  young 
Pyramiis  and  his  love  Thisbye:  very  tragical  mirth,"  there  had  been  a  similar 
entertainment  offered  to  the  press,  and  probably  also  on  the  stage.  For  we  find  an 
entry  in  the  Stationers'  Registers,  at  the  beginning  of  the  year  between  22  July, 
1567,  and  22  July,  1568,  "  Recevyd  of  Rycharde  Jonnes  for  his  lycense  for 
pryntinge  of  a  boke  intituled  yetragecall  comodye  of  DAMONDE  and PETHYAS 
.  .  .  iiij'*."  (See  Arber's  Transcript,  1875,  i.  354.)  And  the  phrase  tickled  the 
fancy  of  the  public,  for  we  find  again,  two  years  later,  * '  Recevyd  of  John  Aide  for 
his  lycense  for  pryntinge  of  an  enterlude  a  lamentable  Tragedy  full  of  pleasaunt 
w,yrth  .  .  .  iiij*^."  {Ibid.  i.  400,  for  22  July,  1569,  to  22  July,  1570.)  We  are  not 
aware  that  these  entries  have  been  hitherto  cited  in  illustration.  It  may  also  here 
be  noted  that,  near  the  same  time,  when  he  had  been  writing  or  meditating  A  Mid- 
summer Night's  Dream,  Shakespeare  himself  introduced  an  allusion  into  The  Mer- 
chant of  Venice  (but  see  J.  W.  E.  's  forthcoming  Introduction  to  it),  act  v.  sc.  I : — 

**  In  such  a  night 
Did  Thisbie  fearfully  o'ertrip  the  dew. 
And  saw  the  Lion's  shadow  ere  himself, 
And  ran  dismay'd  away." 


INTRODUCTION.  xiii 

tale  and  Shakespeare's  play,  beyond  that  of  the  scene  in  both  being 
laid  at  the  Court  of  Theseus."  He  admits  that  the  character  of  "  the 
Duke"  is  founded  on  the  account  in  North's  Translation  of  Plutarch;^ 
but  he  somewhat  exaggerates  in  declaring  that,  "beyond  one  or  two 
passing  allusions,  there  is  no  attempt  to  individualize  either  the  man 
or  the  country."  As  to  the  country  we  may  concede  the  point,  for  the 
haunted  wood  more  resembles  the  Wier-Brake  of  Warwickshire  than 
any  grove  near  Athens.  Local  colouring  was  unthought  of,  so  long 
as  events  and  characters  were  found  interesting.  But  in  the  stately 
dignity  of  Theseus,  with  his  large-hearted  acceptance  of  the  efforts 
made  to  please  him,  and  the  half-expressed  repugnance  to  unreal 
sentiment  or  rhapsody,  such  as  befitted  a  man  of  action  and  success 
in  war,^  we  recognize  his  individuality.  The  delineation  of  Theseus, 
as  a  piece  of  art,  is  complete  in  its  strength  and  beauty ;  although  it 
is  almost  overlooked  in  any  popular  estimate  of  the  wonderful  fairy 
mythology.  The  lore  of  pedants^  could  never  have  given  to  us  this 
heroic  figure — one  whose  every  word  still  recalls,  like  the  analogous 
sculpture  by  Phidias,  that  period  of  Grecian  antiquity  when  gods 
walked  the  earth  with  man  as  with  a  friend.  The  nobility  of  Theseus 
is  of  a  kind  that  none  but  a  truly  great  mind  could  have  conceived :  it 
is  nobility  in  repose.    We  have  no  opportunity  of  seeing  him  in  his 

^  For  which  see  Reeves  and  Turner's  excellent  Shakespeari s  Library,  second 
edition  (being  enlarged  from  J.  P.  Colher's,  of  1841),  1875,  vol.  i.  pp.  7  to  71. 
The  full  title  of  North's  translation  is,  The  Lives  of  the  noble  Grecians  and 
Romanes,  compared  together  by  that  graue  learned  Philosopher  and  IListoriographer, 
Plutarke  of  Chaeronea.  ...  By  Thomas  North.  Imprinted  at  London  by  Thomas 
Vautroullier,  dwelling  in  the  Black  Friers  by  Ludgate.  1579.  In  folio,  595  leaves. 
From  this  work  certain  names  were  directly  borrowed  for  A  Midstinwier  Night'' s 
Dream,  particularly,  I,  yEgles  (from  pp.  28,  41) ;  2,  Ferigotma,  the  daughter  of 
Sinnis  (p.  15) ;  3,  Algeus,  father  of  Theseus.  These  we  find  in  the  present 
Fisher's  Quarto,  printed  or  misprinted,  as,  I,  Eagles  (intended  for  ALgle,  which, 
moreover,  ought  to  have  been  italicized,  on  p.  14,  line  75)  ;  2,  PerigeHia  (on  same 
page,  line  74) ;  and,  3,  a  different  Egeus  (Acts  i.  and  v. ).  There  are  also  Antiopa, 
Hyppolita  (in 'North,  as  the  same  person  :  but  in  Shakespeare  as  distinct  women), 
etc.    The  preceding  offer  a  stronger  clue. 

^  Compare  Julius  Ccesar,  Act  iv.,  sc.  3  :  "  What  should  the  wars  do  with  these 
jigging  fools?" 

^  We  have  little  need  to  disturb  ourselves  concerning  anachronisms  and  in- 
congruities, although  we  find  Athenian  Theseus  declare  "  Saint  Valentine  is  past  " 
(p.  47) ;  and  Titania  accuse  Oberon  of  having  been  disguised  as  Corin,  conversing 
"love  to  amorous  Phillida."  Dido,  "the  Carthage  Queen,"  and  ^neas  (p.  7) 
belong  to  a  later  date  than  Theseus,  whom  Chaucer  also  had  called  a  "Duke." 
These  are  trifles. 


xiv 


INTRODUCTION, 


early  enterprises  as  a  redressor  of  wrongs  and  seeker  after  adventures. 
Although  he  tells  his  queen, 

"  Hippolita,  I  wooed  thee  with  my  sword, 
And  won  thy  love,  doing  thee  injury," 

the  struggle  with  her  Amazons  is  ended  before  he  appears  in  view ; 
his  battle  with  the  Centaurs  is  only  incidentally  referred  to  (p.  52), 
"in  glory  of  my  kinsman  Hercules."  There  is  no  rebellious  strife 
in  the  Athenian  city  to  demand  display  of  energy.  Yet  we  feel,  in 
his  every  word  and  movement,  that  here  is  indeed  a  man  "  equal  to 
either  fortune  : "  one  whom  prosperity  cannot  dazzle,  or  adversity 
humiliate  and  sour.  Noteworthy  is  it  how  thoroughly  Shakespeare 
portrays  such  heroes  as  this  (and  no  dramatist  can  rise  to  lofty 
heights  unless  there  be  in  himself  true  dignity) — the  majestic  grace  of 
his  speech,  the  genial  warmth  of  sympathy  with  inferiors,  entering 
without  ostentation  into  their  feelings,  receiving  their  lame  endeavours 
with  kindly  humour,  and  thus  making  complete  what  they  imperfectly 
perform : 

"  And  what  poor  duty  cannot  do 

Noble  respect  takes  it  in  might,  not  merit." 

He  is  unwilling  to  disappoint  these 

"  hard-handed  men  that  work  in  Athens  here. 
Who  never  laboured  in  their  minds  till  now. 
And  now  have  toiled  their  unbreath'd  memories 
With  this  same  play  against  his  nuptials." 

This  acceptance  is  evidently  from  consideration  for  "  their  intents, 
extremely  stretch'd,  and  conned  with  cruel  pain  to  do  him  service," 
since  he  answers — 

"  I  will  hear  this  play. 
For  never  any  thing  can  be  amiss 
When  simpleness  and  duty  tender  it." 

Again,  afterwards,  in  reply  to  Hippolita's  complaint  that  the  dramatic 
interlude  is  "the  silliest  stuff"  she  ever  heard,  he  reminds  her — 
as  an  apology  for  any  such  shortcomings — "The  best  in  this  kind  are 
but  shadows  :  and  the  worst  are  no  worse,  if  imagination  amend 


INTRODUCTION. 


XV 


them."*  But  with  all  this  willingness  to  accept  such  a  "palpable 
gross  play,"  his  more  keen  delight  is  in  the  stirring  chase,  with  his 
Amazonian  bride,  and  his  hounds  that  "are  bred  out  of  the  Spartan 
kind :  Slow  in  pursuit,  but  match'd  in  mouth  like  bells,  each  under 
each;  a  cry  more  tuneable  was  never  halloed  to,  nor  cheer'd  with 
horn  in  Crete,  in  Sparta,  nor  in  Thessaly."  And  this  not  only  from 
love  for  the  chase  itself,  but  also  to  ascend 

"The  mountain's  top, 
And  mark  the  musical  confusion 
Of  hounds  and  echo  in  conjunction." 

From  him  we  gain  that  most  lovely  contrast  between  the  wedded  wife 
and  Diana's  chaste  votary, 

"  In  shady  cloister  mew'd. 
To  live  a  barren  Sister  all  her  life, 
Chaunting  faint  hymns  to  the  cold  fruitless  moon. 
Thrice  blessed  they,  that  master  so  their  blood, 
To  undergo  such  maiden  pilgrimage ; 
But  earthlier  happy  is  the  rose  distill'd, 
Than  that  which,  withering  on  the  virgin  thorn, 
Grows,  lives,  and  dies  in  single  blessedness."  ^ 

From  Theseus  also  comes  the  magnificent  passage,  as  philosophi- 
cally exact  as  it  is  poetically  beautiful,  descriptive  of  Imagination ; 
gaining  additional  value  from  the  position  which  it  occupies,  and 
from  the  character  of  him  who  utters  it. 

Even  here,  elevated  to  a  throne,  unchallenged  in  dignity,  victor  in 
struggles  that  were  soon  to  be  accounted  mythical ;  after  all  the  vast 
experience  of  his  youth,  familiarized  by  converse  with  beings  of  super- 
human might  and  loveliness,  Theseus  appears  not  to  be  conscious  of 
his  own  superiority  to  ordinary  men,  or  that  near  to  him  are  working 

^  It  will  not  be  without  service  to  contrast  the  unkind  mockery  and  persistent 
humiliation  of  the  actors  who  personate  the  Nine  Worthies  in  Love's  Labour's 
Lost — probably  an  earlier  play — with  the  raillery  that  greets  the  far  more  ridicu- 
lous exhibition  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbie.  Well  may  Holofernes  make  remon- 
strance :  "  This  is  not  generous  ;  not  gentle  ;  not  humble." 

^  A  picture  elaborated,  later,  in  the  Isabella  of  Measure  for  Measure.  As 
with  Sir  Walter  Scott's  Catherine,  The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth,  the  intention  of  the 
author  had  probably  been  to  preserve  the  virginal  chastity  of  the  heroine  un- 
blemished until  death.  In  either  case,  her  marriage  is  a  concession  made  to 
popular  prejudice,  weakening  the  force  of  the  character,  and  thus  injurious. 


xvi  INTRODUCTION. 

unseen  those  spiritual  agencies  that  influence  mankind.  His  poetry 
of  thought  and  of  expression  is  but  the  common  air  that  he  breathes. 
To  him  there  is  forgetfulness  of  mere  self,  his  deeds  appearing  nowise 
marvellous  to  one  who,  from  an  inner  world,  surveys  the  outer  sphere 
of  action.  Despite  all  that  he  has  seen,  he  is  no  Visionary.  Like 
a  commentary  on  the  whole  drama  of  this  Midsummer  Nighfs 
Dream,  and  on  the  creative  power  of  Shakespeare's  own  imagination, 
as  beheld  and  restrained  by  practical  wisdom,  flow  his  words  : — 

"  /  never  may  believe 
These  antique  fables,  nor  these  fairy  toys: 
Lovers  and  madmen  have  such  seething  brains, 
Such  shaping  fantasies,  that  apprehend 
More  than  cool  reason  ever  comprehends. 
The  Lunatic,  the  Lover,  and  the  Poet, 
Are  of  Imagination  all  compact : 
One  sees  more  devils  than  vast  Hell  can  hold; 
That  is  the  Madman  :  the  Lover,  all  as  frantic, 
Sees  Helen's  beauty  in  a  brow  of  Egypt : 
The  Poet's  eye,  in  a  fine  phrensy  rolling. 
Doth  glance  from  heaven  to  earth,  from  earth  to  heaven ; 
And,  as  Imagination  bodies  forth 
The  forms  of  things  unknown,  the  Poet's  pen 
Turns  them  to  shape,  and  gives  to  airy  nothing 
A  local  habitation  and  a  name." 

§  8.    The  Fairies  :  Oberon  and  Titania. 

Although  into  the  stately  presence  of  Theseus  the  fairies  enter  not, 

visibly,  they  love  and  revere  him ;  as  they  mention  during  the  quarrel 

between  Oberon  and  Titania :  thus  their  latest  employment  is  to 

hallow  his  nuptial  dwelling.    Over  the  more  youthful  pairs  of  lovers 

their  spells  are  potent,  at  first  to  perplex,  and  afterwards  to  reunite 

them.    But  it  is  upon  the  clowns — the  men  described  as 

"  A  crew  of  Patches,  rude  mechanicals, 
That  work  for  bread  upon  Athenian  stalls, 
Who  meet  together  to  rehearse  a  play 
Intended  for  great  Theseus'  nuptial  day  " — 

that  the  elvish  Puck,  that  lob  of  spirits,^  most  freely  exercises  his  mis- 

*  "  Farewell,  thou  Lobbe  of  spirits."    (P.  12.) 
"Then  lies  him  down,  the  Lubber-fiend."— Milton's  V Allegro,  no. 
"  Lob  lye-by-the-fire." — Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle,  Act  iii.  sc.  I. 


INTRODUCTION. 


XVll 


chievous  mirth.  He  confesses  his  belief,  "  What  fools  these  mortals 
be  !"  The  gambols  of  these  tiny  ministrants  may  well  be  regarded 
as  the  most  perfect  poem  of  its  class  that  has  ever  appeared/  The 
lyrical  melodiousness,  and  the  profusion  of  floral  or  starry  imagery 
never  grow  wearisome.  They  yield  a  clear,  although  a  glowing  reve- 
lation of  the  fairies'  temperament.  We  see  their  sportive  jealousies 
and  fantastic  vengeances ;  their  gatherings  on  "the  beached  margent 
of  the  sea,  to  dance  their  ringlets  to  the  whistHng  winds;"  their 
drowsiness  on  banks  of  thyme,  "  o'er-canopied  with  sweet  musk-roses 
and  with  eglantine ; "  their  whimsical  horror  of  intrusion  from  thorny 
hedgehogs,  newts  and  blind-worms,  spiders,  snails,  and  beetles; 
their  love  of  "  music  that  brings  sleep,"  and  of  the  moonlit  glades ; 
their  restless  obligation  to  "  trip  after  the  moon's  shade,"  "  following 
darkness  as  a  dream."  We  see  the  rollicking  mirthfulness  of  Robin 
Goodfellow,  to  whom  "things  most  pleasant  be  that  befal  prepos- 
terously."^ 

Amid  this  revelling  in  fancy  there  is  a  poetical  completeness  far 
beyond  the  requirements  of  any  stage-effect.    In  our  own  time,  at 
theatres,  we  may  find  the  dramatic  illusion  heightened  with  set 
scenes,  coloured  lights  and  transparencies,  the  witcheries  of  graceful 
•  forms,  fantastic  costumes;  and  the  loveliest  melodies  of  Mendelssohn's 

^  Malone  and,  recently,  J.  O.  Halliwell-Phillipps  and  W.  C.  Hazlitt,  have 
shown  that  Michael  Drayton's  Nymphidia  cannot  be  regarded  as  having  in  any 
way  suggested  the  drama ;  for  the  Nymphidia  was  not  only  never  printed  until 
1627,  but  is  indicated  as  having  been  among  the  later,  poems  of  its  author.  See 
Malone's  Shakespeare,  edition  1 82 1,  v.  206;  the  Percy  Society  Illustrations  of 
Fairy  Mythology,  1845  ;  and  Reeves  and  Turner's  Fairy  Tales  illustrating  Shake- 
speaj'e,  1875,  p.  239,  where  the  Nymphidia  is  reprinted  complete.  Also,  the 
Robin  Goodfellow  ballad,  attributed  by  Peck  to  Ben  Jonson,  "From  Oberon,  in 
fairyland,"  Roxb.  Coll.,  i.  230  ;  or  Roxburghe  Ballads,  ii.  81. 

2  Commend  we  to  the  notice  of  all  students  a  suggestive  little  volume  on 
Shakespeare' s  Puck,  and  his  Folkslore,  illustrated  from  the  Superstitions  of  All 
Nations:"  By  William  Bell,  Phil.  Doct.,  1852.  In  a  forthcoming  volume  of  the 
Ballad  Society's  reprint,  The  Roxburghe  Ballads,  the  curious  woodcuts  of  Robin 
Goodfellow  will  be  given  in  facsimile  to  Roxb.  Coll.,  ii.  145.  Professor  Daniel 
Wilson's  Caliban:  the  Missing  Link,  and  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  1 873,  is 
one  of  the  most  valuable  contributions  to  Shakespearian  criticism.  The  name  of 
Oberon,  "  the  dwarfe  king  of  fayryes,"  had  already  been  made  a  household  word 
by  having  appeared  in  the  popular  romance  of  Biio/i  of  Bourdeaux,  a  translation 
of  which,  by  Lord  Berners,  had  appeared  about  1558.  Oberon  is  guessed  to  be 
simply  an  adaptation  of  the  original  Elberich,  or  Albrich.  The  name  Titania  was 
borrowed  from  one  of  the  synonymes  of  Diana,  to  whom  it  is  applied  by  Ovid. 


xviii  INTRODUCTION. 

genius,  to  enhance  the  charm.  But  beyond  all  these  additional 
adornments,  giving  pleasure  to  the  eye  and  to  the  ear,  remain  un- 
approachable for  realization  that  minuteness,  that  almost  intangible 
evanescence,  which  belong  to  the  fairy  people  of  Shakespeare.  Puck 
is  native  to  our  own  folks-lore,  although  trace  of  him  is  found  else- 
where. But  Shakespeare,  by  several  allusions,  had  carefully  prepared 
us  for  welcoming  the  tiny  monarchs  as  visitors  from  distant  regions. 
Oberon  has  newly  "  Come  from  the  farthest  steppe  of  Indta,^^  and 
Titania's  favourite  little  changeling,  the  cause  of  strife,  has  been 
brought  from  his  mother's  land,  where  she  had  gossipt  "  in  the  spiced 
Indian  air  by  night."  These  words,  like  Puck's  boast,  "I'll  put  a  girdle 
round  about  the  earth  in  forty  minutes,"  or  "  I  go,  I  go,  swifter  than 
arrow  from  the  Tartar's  bow,"  increase  the  impression  of  their  swift 
travel  and  wide  experiences;  for  although  wanderers  and  foreign 
visitants,  they  are  at  home  in  every  land,  here  as  elsewhere.  Thus 
the  well-understood  description  of  Queen  EHzabeth,^  "  the  imperiall 
Votress,"  ''a  fair  Vestal,  throned  in  the  JVest,'^  whom  "young  Cupid's 
fiery  shaft"  could  not  transpierce  (p.  i6),  would  inevitably  bring  back 
to  the  audience  the  remembrance  that  they  were  supposed  to  be 
at  a  distance  from  the  England  of  their  own  time.  Beyond  these 
hints  of  remoteness,  and  a  few  antique  names,  disguise  was  scarcely  • 
attempted,  to  present  the  Athens  of  two  thousand  years  ago. 

§  9.    The  "Crew  of  Patches:"  "Bottom's  Dream." 

From  the  first,  no  doubt,  the  world  welcomed  the  genuine  humour 
of  contrasting  and  intermingling  with  the  fairy  sprites  these  "  hempen 
home-spuns  "  Peter  Quince,  the  carpenter,  manager,  and  Prologizer ; 
Flute,  the  bellows-mender,  who  plays  Thisbe,  although  he  has  a  beard 

^  We  attach  no  weight  whatever  to  Warburton's  supposition  that  by  the  "  Mer- 
maid on  a  Dolphin's  back  "  Shakespeare  glanced  at  Elizabeth's  rival,  Mary  Queen 
of  Scots.  She  was  judicially  murdered  in  1587,  and  we  may  be  sure  that  if  the 
poet  could  have  possibly  descended  to  insult  her,  long  after  death,  the  attack  would 
have  been  made  as  self-evident  as  was  the  flattering  tribute  to  Elizabeth.  It  is 
one  of  the  idle  crotchets  of  those  who  are  incapable  of  understanding  true  poetry. 
Thus  attempts  have  been  made  to  identify  every  character  in  Hamlet  as  portraits 
of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  Essex,  &c. 


INTRODUCTION.  xix 

coming,  but  may  do  it  in  a  mask ;  Starveling,  a  tailor  of  melancholy 
anticipations,  who  loses  temper  when  gibed  at  as  the  "  Man  in  the 
Moon;"  Snug,  the  joiner,  who  is  slow  of  study,  and  methodical  in  all 
that  he  does  or  asks — an  orderly  man,  and  well  to  be  depended  on  in 
other  matters  than  the  Lion's  part,  "  which  is  nothing  but  roaring ; " 
Snout,  the  tinker,  who  enacts  Wall  in  public,  and  is  generally  content 
to  chime  in  with  suggestions  of  others,  being  unobtrusive  by  nature 
in  private  life.  But  in  all  circles  is  Bully  Bottom  the  favourite/ 
Being  a  weaver  by  trade,  thence  comes  his  dictatorial  habit ;  for  your 
weaver  is  a  contemplative  man,  a  politician,  and  abstruse  inquirer : 
he  thinks  much  at  his  loom,  as  though  it  were  that  of  Destiny,  and, 
when  he  emerges  from  the  stronghold  of  his  treddles,  he  sometimes 
forgets  that  the  sequences  of  his  deductions  and  dogmas  are  not  so 
logical  as  they  had  appeared.  He  is  indisposed  to  remain  hidden  in 
the  background.  He  likes  to  play  first  fiddle  in  all  societies,  does 
Bottom :  he  would  willingly  perform  the  Lover  and  the  Tyrant ;  also 
Thisbe  and  the  Lion.  When  his  time  comes,  he  will  summon  Pease- 
blossom  as  authoritatively  as  he  had  ordered  his  Athenian  comrades  y 
and  will  volunteer  a  special  answer,  in  contradiction  of  Theseus  him- 
self, concerning  Thisbe's  cue,  and,  again,  regarding  the  Epilogue. 
Bottom  is  self-consistent  throughout.  In  him  is  exemplified  the  great 
truth  that  no  fairyland  enchantment  of  dreams,  or  love  itself,  can 
alter  the  inherent  nature  of  a  full-grown  man  (as  Fielding  declared 
concerning  drunkenness,  in  Tom  Jones);  at  most  it  intensifies,  and 
develops  what  was  latent.    He  is  equally  full  of  ignorant  assumption 

^  It  is  worth  noting,  as  it  proves  the  continued  popularity  of  Bully  Bottom 
among  readers  and  old  theatre-lovers,  that  during  the  Cromwellian  interregnum, 
vi^hilst  all  stage- plays  were  prohibited,  Francis  Kirkman  and  Robert  Cox  main- 
tained the  performance  of  ''The  merry  conceited  Humors  of  Bottom  the  Weaver ; 
as  it  hath  been  often  publikely  acted  by  some  of  his  Majesties  Comedians,  and 
lately  privately  presented  by  several  apprentices  for  their  harmless  recreation,  with 
great  applause."  This  was  printed  in  1661  ;  reprinted  in  Kirkman's  "  77z<?  f4^its : 
or,  Sport  upon  Sport.  In  Selected  Pieces  of  DROLLERY.  2nd  Part.  1672."  With 
Frontispiece,  representing  the  Red  Bull  during  performance  of  sundry  Drolls. 
We  need  attach  little  weight  to  the  opinion  of  Samuel  Pepys,  29th  September, 
1662,  that  the  Midsummer  Night's  Drtam  appeared  to  him  "the  most  insipid 
ridiculous  play  that  ever  I  saw  in  my  life"  [Diary,  best  edition,  1876,  ii.  51); 
for  the  Secretary's  critical  judgment  does  him  little  credit  in  regard  to  poetry. 
What  Hamlet  says  of  Polonius  (falsely,  it  appears,)  is  tolerably  true  of  Pepys  : 
"He's  for  a  jig,  or  a  tale  of  bawdry,  or  he  sleeps." 


XX  INTRODUCTION. 

when  Titania  proffers  music  or  affection,  as  he  had  been  in  his  self- 
estimates  of  ability  before  his  transformation.  Had  he  not  really- 
been  the  shallowest  thick-skin  of  that  barren  sort,"  we  might  have 
cherished  the  idea  of  his  career  becoming  thereafter  dignified  by  a 
remembrance  of  the  fairy  realm  into  which  he,  and  he  alone,  had 
been  for  awhile  admitted  ;  ^  especially  as  we  have,  in  our  own  posses- 
sion, the  original  Greek  ballad  which  Peter  Quince  was  to  have 
written  thereon.  But  the  memory  of  his  Ass's  ears  was  the  only 
perennial  bequest  of  his  Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

§10.    Conclusion  :  The  Three-fold  Plot. 

Simple  though  it  appears,  when  acted,  the  interweaving  of  the  three- 
fold plot  might  have  tasked  the  ingenuity  of  any  playwright.  The 
fairies  were  to  be  kept  quite  distinct  from  influencing  Theseus,  his 
Amazonian  bride,  and  their  Court ;  yet  it  was  specially  to  grace  the 
nuptials  that  Oberon  had  journeyed  so  far,  and  the  fairy  benediction 
on  the  wedding-couch  concludes  the  action  of  the  play.  The  en- 
tanglements and  misconceptions  of  the  two  pairs  of  lovers  were  to  be 
caused  by  Puck  and  his  enchantments  of  the  magic  juice ;  yet  after 
all  errors  are  happily  dispersed,  and  the  four  friends  made  happy, — 

"  When  they  next  wake,  all  this  derision 

Shall  seem  a  dream  and  fruitless  vision  : "    (p.  41.) 

...  "And  think  no  more  of  this  night's  accidents. 
But  as  the  fierce  vexation  of  a  dream."    (p.  45.) 

Even  thus  it  befalls.  At" first  they  believe  "That  yet  we  sleep,  we 
dream and  afterwards  declare,  Let's  follow  him;  And  by  the  way, 
let  us  recount  our  dreams."  Lastly,  of  the  Athenian  clowns,  the 
handicraftsmen,  none  behold  the  fairy  crew  save  only  Bottom,  the 
connecting-link,  since  fate  will  have  it  so,  between  the  mortals  and 

^  But  see,  in  exemplification  of  this,  Allan  Park  Paton's  Web  of  Life,  1858, 
p.  261.  The  transformation  is  poetically  conceived,  and  skilfully  detailed;  yet, 
after  all,  it  is  merely  of  modern  false  sentiment,  opposed  to  the  steadfastness  of 
character  that  is  shown  by  Shakespeare.  We  cannot  gather  figs  from  thistles  : 
Bottom  remains  Bottom. 


INTRODUCTION.  xxi 

the  ethereal  company.  Even  while  undergoing  the  enchantment  he 
had  confounded  his  own  identity:  he  had  longed  for  dry  oats,  a 
peck  of  provender,  a  handful  or  two  of  dried  peas,  a  pottle  of  hay, 
"  good  hay,  sweet  hay,  hath  no  fellow  ! "  His  long  ears  tickle  him  : 
"  I  must  to  the  barber's ;  for  methinks  I  am  marvellous  hairy  about 
the  face."  But  when  he  awakes  he  feels,  "  I  have  had  a  most  rare 
vision.    I  have  had  a  dream  ! " 

No  one  need  puzzle  over  the  confused  chronology  of  the  drama. 
The  action  includes  only  three  days  and  nights,  dramatically;  although 
we  are  told  of  four  days  to  intervene  between  opening  words  and 
nuptial  hour.^  In  the  old  drama,  without  change  of  scene,  without 
a  marked  distinction  of  the  Acts  (such  as  we  now  recognize,  both  in 
printed  books  and  at  our  theatres),  there  was  seldom,  if  ever,  a  re- 
membrance forced  on  the  spectator  of  exact  length  of  time.  It  was 
deemed  sufficient  if  some  conception  arose  of  an  extended  duration 
— much  beyond  the  real  flight  of  minutes.  For  this  the  poet  gave 
his  hint.  He  found  his  audience  apt,  and  far  too  wise  to  spoil  enjoy- 
ment by  labouring  to  detect  his  art.  On  the  contrary,  as  Wordsworth 
writes,  "  We  murder  to  dissect."    As  Bully  Bottom  says, 

"  Man  is  but  an  ass,  if  he  will  go  about  to  expound  this  dream." 

Mr.  J.  O.  Halliwell-Phillipps  declares  :  ^  "  What  is  absurdly  termed 
aesthetic  criticism  is  more  out  of  place  on  this  comedy  than  perhaps 
on  any  other  of  Shakespeare's  plays.  It  deadens  the  '  native  wood- 
notes  wild,'  that  every  reader  of  taste  would  desire  to  be  left  to  their 
own  influences.  The  Midsummer  NighVs  Dream  is  too  exquisite  a 
composition  to  be  dulled  by  the  infliction  of  philosophical  analysis." 

^  The  flight  of  the  lovers,  and  the  rehearsal  of  the  Interlude,  take  place  on  the 
night  of  the  second  day:  the  three  weddings  fall  on  the  next  night,  "  Tomorrow 
midnight."  Thus  we  have  (Act  i.)  part  of  a  first  day;  (Acts  ii.,  iii.,  iv.)  the 
night  of  a  second  day  ;  running  on  into  (Act  v.)  the  morning,  noon,  and  night  of  a 
third  day. 

^  That  J.  O.  Halliwell-Phillipps  did  not  intend  by  his  words  to  deprecate  all 
explanatory  or  introductory  remarks  on  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  is  proved 
conclusively  by  his  own  excellent  labours  (beyond  those  of  all  other  men,  in  this 
department,)  connected  with  the  Fairy  Mythology.  At  best,  it  is  a  thankless 
office  to  write  Introductions,  so  long  as  they  are  exposed  to  captious  and  malicious 
criticism,  from  those  who  are  intolerant  of  all  opinions  except  their  own. 


xxii 


INTRODUCTION. 


{Memoranda^  p.  13.)  Nevertheless,  we  criticize,  for  this  our  age  is  per- 
verted from  simple  tastes,  and  not  only  demands  the  "finger-post 
criticism,"  but  listens  to  the  perverse  misdirection  of  so-called  scien- 
tific anatomists.  We  accept  thankfully  the  glowing  summary :  "Of 
the  lyric  or  the  prosaic  part,  the  counterchange  of  loves  and  laughters, 
of  fancy  fine  as  air  and  imagination  high  as  heaven,  what  need  can 
there  be  for  any  one  to  shame  himself  by  the  helpless  attempt  to  say 
one  word  not  utterly  unworthy  ?  "  We  trust  that  blame  attaches  not 
to  those  among  us  who  dare  speak  at  all  on  the  subject,  whilst  admit- 
ting that  no  pen  can  fitly  celebrate  the  inexhaustible  beauties  of  A 
Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream. 

J.  Wood  FALL  Ebsworth. 

MoLASH  Vicarage, 

BY  ASHFORD,  KeNTo. 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


[The  two  Quarto  editions  and  the  four  Folio  editions  have  no  list  of  characters. 
Rowe  first  added  one,  in  1709.] 

Theseus,  Z>?//^^  (t/"  Athens. 

Egeus,  an  Athenian  Loi-d^  Father  of  Hermia. 

dImetrto's,  } ""''^ 
Philostrate,  Master  of  the  Revels  to  Theseus. 
Quince,  a  Carpenter ; 
Snug,  a  Joiner; 
Bottom,  a  Weaver ; 
Flute,  a  Bellows-mender , 
Snout,  a  Tinker  ; 
Starveling,  a  Tailor ; 

HipPOLYTA,  Queen  of  the  Amazons,  betrothed  to  Theseus. 
Hermia,  daughter  of  Egeus,  in  love  with  Lysander. 
Helena,  in  love  with  Demetrius. 


-  Artizans  of  Athens. 


Oberon,  King  of  the  Fairies. 
Titania,  Queen  of  the  Fairies. 
Puck,  or  Robin-Goodfellow,  a  Fairy, 
Peas-blossom, 


Cobweb, 
Moth, 

Mustard-seed, 


h  Fairies. 


Characters  in  the  Interlude,  performed  by  the  Clowns. 


Pyramus, 
Thisbe, 
Wall, 
Moonshine, 
Lion, 

Other  Fairies  attendant  on  Oberon  and  Titania. 

Attendants  on  Theseus  and  Hippolyta. 

Scene  varies,  from  the  Palace  of  Theseus  at  Athens,  and  Quince's 
house,  to  a  Wood  in  the  neighbourhood. 


A 

Midfommer  nights 
dreame. 

Asit  hath  becne  fiindry  times  pub- 
Uc^ly  aBed,  hjthe'K^ht  honour  a-' 
ble  ,  the  Lord  Chamberlaine  his 
femmts. 

Writ  fen  by  WtUiamShal^^eare, 


^Impiij«ed«  London,  iorThomas  Blher,  sndare  to 
DC  isuidc  it  is  (hoppe,at  the  Signe  of  theWhite  HatCj 
in  fketefimte,  1600. 


MIDSOMMER  NIGHTS 

DREAME. 

Eftter  Thefcus,Hippolita,  with  others* 
The  fens. 

Ow  faire  H/fpoliUy  our  nuptiall  hower 
Draws  on  apafe :  fowcr  happy  daks  bring  in 
An  other  Moone; but  oh,me  thinks.how  flow 
This  old  Moone  wauesiShe  lingers  my  defires. 
Like  to  aStepdame,or  a  dowager. 
Long  withering  out  a  yong  mans  reuenewe* 
Mrf^.Fower  dales  will  quickly  ftcepe  themfeluesin  night: 
Fowcr  nights  will  quickly  dreame  away  the  lime: 
And  then  the  Moone,  like  to  a  (iluerbowe, 
Nowbcni  inheauen,fliallbcholdethe  night 
Ofourfolemnities* 

rhe.Goe  Philofirate, 
Siirrc  vp  the  Athenian  youth  to  merriments. 
Awake  the  peart  and  nimble  fpirit  of  mirth, 
Turne  melancholy  foorth  tofiinerals; 
Th  e  pale  companion  is  not  for  our  pomp. 
HypPolita^  I  woo'd  thee  with  my  fword, 
Andwonnethyloue,doingtheeiniuries: 

But  I  will  wed  thee  inanotherkey. 

With  pompe,with  triumph,  and  withtcuelmg. 

E»ter  Egtvis  and  hi^  daughter  Hcrmia^<i«rf  Lyfandcr 
4w^Helena,WDemctrius. 
Ejrtf,Happybe7Tf»^yr/»,our  renowned  duke, 
xLThankcsgood %^w,Whatsthc  newes wuh thee 
JSf^*FuUofvcxation,comeI ,  withcomplaint 


Againllmy  childe,my  daughter  Herm/a, 

Stand  forth  Dmetrius. 
My  noble  Lord^ 

This  man  haih  ray  confcnt  to  marry  her* 

Sundfhrth  Lifander, 
And  my  gratiousDukc, 

This  m  an  hath  bewitch:  thebofome  of  my  childc. 
Thou^thouZj^j/Swi^^  thou  haft  giuen  her  rimes. 
And  interchanged  Jouc  tokens  with  my  childe: 
Thou  haft,  by  moone-lightjat  her  windowe  fung, 
With  faining  voice,  vcrfes  of  faming  loue. 
And  ftolnetheimoreffion  of hcrphantafic: 
With  braceletsot  ihy  haire,rings,gawdes,  conceites, 
Knackes,  trifles,  nofcgaics/wccce  meatesi^meflengcrs 
Of  ftrongpreuailemem  in  vnhardenedyouth) 
With  cunning  haft  thou  filch  t  my  daughters  heart, 
Turnd  her  obcdicnce(which  is  due  to  mee ) 
To  ftubborne  harfhnefle .  And,  my  gratious  Duke 
Beitfo,  (he  will  noc  here,beforey our  Grace, 
Confcntto  marry  with  Demetrtus, 
Ibcgihe  auncient  priuiledgeof^//&w.- 
As  (he  is  mine,  I  may  difpofe  of  her: 
Which  fhall  be,  either  to  this  gcndeman. 
Or  to  her  death  .'according  to  our  lawe, 
Immediatly  prouidcd,in  that  cafe, 

The^  Whatfay you,fffrjww2Be  aduiPd,fairemaid. 
To  you,your  father  fliould  be  as  a  God: 
One  that  compofti  your  beauties :  yea  and  one, 
TO  whomeyou  are  but  as  aformc  in  wax. 
By  him  imprinted,  and  within  his  power. 
To leaue  the  figure,  or  disfigurcit: 
Demetrius  is  a  worthy  gentleman. 

mr.  So  IS  Lifmder.  jhe^  In  himfelfe  he  is; 

But  in  thisjiinde ,  wanting  your  fathers  voice, 
Theotherrauftbehcld  the  worthier. 


A  Midfommcrnightesdfreatne. 

JJer^  I  would  my  father  lookt  but  with  my  eyes. 
TT&^.Rather  your  eyes  muft,  with  his  iudgemcnt,  lookcj 
Her.  I  doc  intreat  your  grace,  to  pardon  mce« 
I  know  not  by  what  power,  lam  madcbould; 
Norhowitmay  conccrncmy  modefty. 
In  fuch  a  prcfence,  here  to  plead  my  thoughts: 
But  1  bcfcech  your  Grace,  that  1  may  knowc 
The  worft  that  may  befall  mce  in  this  cafe. 
If  I  refufc  to  wed  Demetrius. 

The,  Either  to  dy  the  death,  or  to  absure. 
For  euer,  the  fociety  of  men. 
Thcrefore,fairc  JRr<fr/w/4i,queftion  your  defires, 
Kjiowc  ofy  our  youth,  examine  well  your  blood, 
Whether(ifyou  yeclde  not  to  your  fathers  choycc) 
You  can  endure  the  Uucry  of  aNunne, 
For  aye  to  be  inftiady  cloyflcr,  mew*d 
To  Hue  a  barraine  fiftcr  all  your  life, 
Chaunting  faint  hymnes,tothccoldcfruitle(feMoonCi 
Thrife  blefled  they,  that  mafter  fo  there  bloode. 
To  vndcrgoe  fuch  maiden  pilgrimage: 
But  earthlycr  happy  is  the  rofe  diftildj 
Then  that,  which,  witheringon  the  virgin  thornc, 
Growes,Uues,and  dies,  in  finglc  blefledncffe. 

Her,  So  will  I  growe,fo  liue,fo  die  my  Lord* 
Ere  I     yield  my  virgin  Patent,  vp 
Vnto  bis  Lordfhippe,  whofc  vnwifhcd  yoake 
My  foule  confents  not  to  giue  fouerainty. 

The^  xaketime  topawfc,and  by  the  ncxtnewemoonei 
ihc  fcaling  d  ay,bet  wixt  my  loue  and  mce. 
For  euerlading  bond  of  fellowfhtppe, 
Vpon  that  day  either  prepare  to  dye. 
For  difobedience  to  your  fathers  will> 
Or  elfe  to  vfcdDemetriHs^zs  he  would^ 
Or  on  i>/4»^x  altar  to  proteft. 
For ay  e^aufieritie  and  ungle  life* 


.---^    - 

7)eme.  Relcnt/weetc  Herm/a^  zndi^Lyptfuier, yecld 
Thy  crazed  title  to  my  certainc  right* 

Lyf,  You  haue  her  fathers  loue,  Demetrimx 
L  et  me  hauc  Hernias :  doe  you  marry  him, 

tgew^  Scornefull  Lyfaftder^ttuc^ht  hath  my  loue: 
And  what  is  mine^  my  loue  (hall  render  him* 
And  flic  is  mine^jand  all  my  right  of  her 
J  doe  eflate  ynto  Demetrttu^ 

Lyfand^ I  am  my  Lord,  as  well  deriu'd  as  hee^ 
As  wellpoffcft :  my  loue  is  more  than  his: 
My  fortunes  eucry  way  as  faircly  rankt 
iflf  not  with  vantage ^as  Demetrm : 
And(which  is  more  then  allthefe  boaftes  can  be) 
I  am  belou'd  of  beautious  Hermia, 
Why  fliould  notl  then  profecute  my  right' 
JDemettifu^Xt  auouch  it  to  his  heade. 
Made  loue  to  Nedars  daughtcr,f/<f/p«<c, 
And  won  herfoulc :  and  llie^fwcctc  Ladie^dotes, 
Deuoutlydotes^  dotes  in  Idolatry^ 
Vpon  this /potted  and  inconftant  man. 

*the^  1  mufl  confcfTe,  that  I  hauc  heard  fo  much; 
And,  with  Demeiriusy  thought  to  haue  fpoke  thereof; 
Bur,  being  oucrfull  of  felfe  affaires. 
My  mindc  did  loofeit^  But  D^w^mW come. 
And  come  Egeus^yow  ftall  goe  with  mce: 
I  haue  fome  priuatc  fchooling  foryou  both* 
Foryou/aite  Hermia^  lookc  you  armcyour  felfe. 
To  fit  your  fancies,  to  yourfathers  will^ 
Orclic.the  Lawof^//j>^»/yceldsyouvp 
(Which  by  nomcancs  we  may  extenuate) 
To  death,orto  avoweoffinglelifet 
Come  my  Hyffolita ;  what  chcare  my  loue? 
Demetrius  and  Egeu^  goe  along; 
I  mud  employ  you  in  fonoe  buancflc, 
Again()  our  nuptiall^and  conferre  with  you 


A  Midlbmmer  nightes  dreame. 

Of  fomc  thing,  ncrely  thatconccrnesyourrelues, 
Ege,  With  duecy  and  dcrire,we  follow  you»  Sxeunt^ 
LjffandMovv  now  my  loucf  Why  is  your  cheekc  fo  pale? 
HOW  chance  the  rofcs  there  doe  fade  fo  faft? 

Her^  Bclike/or  want  of  raine  .*  which  I  could  wcU 
Beteeme  them ^fr ora  the  tempcft  of  my  eyes* 

£r/yiEigh  me  ;for  aught  that  I  could  eucrreade. 
Could  cuer  here  by  tale  or  hiftory. 
The  courfe  of  true  loue  neuer  did  runne  fmoothe; 
But  either  it  was  different  inbloud; 
Her,  O  croffe/too  high  to  be  inthrald  to  loue* 
Lif^  OreiremifgrafFed,inrefpedofycares; 
Her^  O  fpight/too  oldc  to  be  ingag*d  toyoung, 
Lif,  Or  elfe,  it  ftoode  vpon  the  choyce  of  friends^ 
Her^  O  heil^to  choofe  loue  by  anothe rsey esl 
Lyf^  Or,  if  there  were  a  fympathy  in  choyce^ 
Warre,dcath  or  ficknefTe,  didlay  fiegetoitj 
Waking  it  momentany,as  a  found, 
S wift^as  a  fliadowe;  ftiort,as  any  dreamc; 
Briefe,asthelightningin  the  collied  night<| 
That(^in  a  fpleene)vnrolds  both  hcauen  and  earthj 
And.ere  a  man  hath  power  to  fay,  beholde^ 
The  iawes  of  d  arkenefle  do  deuoure  it  vp: 
So  qui  eke  bright  thingscomeioconfufion. 

Her^  If then  true  louers  hauc  bineucr  croft. 
It  flands  as  an  edi^l,  in  dcftiny: 
Then  let  vs  teach  our  triallpaticneej 
Becaufe  it  is  a  cuftomary  crofFe, 
AS  de  we  toloue,  as  rhoughts^and  drean)es,and  iighes^« 
Wiflies,  and  tearcs;  poore  Fancies  followers, 
Lyf^a  good  perfwafion  ;thereforeheare  m^c,Ucm$a: 
Ihaue  a  widowe  aunt  ^  a  dowager. 
Of great  reuene  w,  and  fhehath  no  childe*. 
From  Athemis  her  houfercmote/eaucn  leagues; 
Andihcrefpe6les  mee.ashcronlyfonnc:  ^ 

A4  There, 


AMiciiomnicr  nigmes  ateaffle. 

Tbere,gcntlc  Hernia jcswj  I  matry  thee; 
/^dto  chat  place, the  (harpe  AthenianXv^ 
Cannotpurfue  vs.If  thouloueft  mee^then 
Stcaleforth  thy  fathcrshoufcjto  morrow  night: 
Andinthe  wood,  a  league  without  the  townc 

?Vhere  I  did  meete  thee  once  with  Helena 
o  do  obferuance  to  a  morue  of  May) 
There  will  I  ftay  for  thee^ 
H^f.My  good  Lyfander, 
1  fweare  to  thce,by  C»/>i^i^  ftrongcft  bowe. 
By  hisbeftarrowe,  with  the  golden  heade. 
By  the  (implicitie  ofreftusdoucs. 
By  that  which  knitteth  foulcs,  and  prolpersloucs. 
And  by  that  fire  which  burnd  the  furihage  queene^ 
When  thefalfe  TroMn  vnder  faile  wasfecne. 
By  all  the  vowes  that  euer  men  haue  broke^ 
(In  number  moire  then  cuer  women  fpokc) 
In  that  fame  place  thou  had  appointed  mee^ 
To  morrow  truely  will  I  meete  with  thee, 
L^f,  Kecpepromifeloue:looke,herc comesHefefia^ 

£»/^rHelena. 
Si<?r»  God  fpcede faire  Helem :  whither  away? 
HeL  Callyou  mec  faire?  That  faire  againe  vnfay; 
jP^x«fi^rf»;^loues  your  faire :  6  happy  faiie/ 
Your  cyesarcloadilarres^  and  your tonguesfweete aire 
More  tunable  then  larke^  to  fheepeheardscare^ 
When  wheat  is  greene,when  hauthorne  buddes  a  ppeare. 
Sicknefle  is  catching :  O,  were  fauour  fo. 
Your  wordsl  catch,  faire  Hermia^  ere  Igoe, 
My  eare  Should  catch  your  voice,my  cye^your  eye. 
My  tongue  ftiould  catch  your  tongues  fwcete  melody. 
Were  the  world  mimyDemetrius  being  bated. 
The  ref!  iie  giue  to  be  to  you  tranflaied . 
Oj,  teachnice  how  you  looke,  and  with  what  Art, 
You  fvvay  the  modon  otDemetrm  heart  ^ 


AMidrommcr  nightcs  drcame, 

H<fr.  I  frovvnc  vpon  him;yct  hcc  loucs  mcc  flilL 
ffehO  that  your  frowns  would  teach  my  fmiks  fuch  skiL 
Hir,\  giuehim  curfes;ycthc  giues  mcc  loue. 
HeL  O  that  my  prayers  could  fuch  affcdlion  moouc, 
H<fr. The  more  1  hate,thc  more  he  Followcsmcc* 
Hel,  The  morel  loue^thc  more  he  hatcth  mcc* 
/fj-r.  His  folly^fsTip/tf^^jis  no  fault  of  mine. 
Hel.  None  but  yourbcaucyjwould  that  fault  were  minc» 
J/(?r,Take  comfort :  he  no  more  fhall  fee  my  face; 
Lyfander  and  my  felfc  will  fly  this  place. 
Before  the  time  I  did  L//a»aer{ce^ 
Seem*d  Athens  as  a  Paradife  to  mee. 
O  then,what  graces  in  my  loue  dooe  dwell. 
That  hee  hath  turnd  a  heaucn  vnto  a  hell/ 

Lyf,  Helen^ioyon  our  mindeswee  will  vnfould: 
To  morrow  night^when^P^ce^^dothbeholdc 
Hcrfiiuervif3ge,inthe  watty  glaflc  3 
Decking,  with  liquid  peatle,  thebladed  gratTe 
(K  time,that  louers  flights  doth  Hill  conceale) 
Through  Athens  gates^haue  wee  deuirdto  ftealc. 

Her.hnd,  in  the  wood,  where  often  you  and  I, 
Vpon  faint  Primrofc  beddes^  were  wont  tolyc. 
Emptying  our  boforacs,of  their  counfcll  fweld^ 
There  my  Lyfunder^znd  my  felfc  fliall  mccce. 
And  thenccjfrom  Athens yimnt  away  our  eycs^ 
To  fecke  new  friends  and  ihangc  companions* 
Farcwelljfwcete  playfellow :  pray  thou  forvst 
And  good  lucke  graunt  thee  thy  Demetrim. 
Keepe  word  Lyfanderxyit  muft  flaruc  outfight, 
from  louers  foode,till  morrow  deepc  midnight. 
Exit  Hcrmia, 
Lyfl  will  my  Hermia^  Helena  adieur 
As  you  on  him,2>^^/r/^  dote  on  you,  Exit  Lyfandcr. 

HeU.  How  happie fomc^orc  otherfomc,  can  be/ 
Through  Athens^  I  am  thought  as  fairc  as  ftxcc. 

A  But 


A  Midfommcr  nightesdrcame. 

But  whatof  that?D^w»w/iiithinkcs  notfo; 
He  will  not  knowc^what  all^buc  hcc  doc  know. 
And  as  hee  crrcs^  doting  on  Hermiac  eyes; 
Soljadmiring  of  his  qualities. 
Things  bafc  and  vile,  holding  no  quantities 
Loue  can  cranfpofe  to  forme  and  dignitie* 
Louc  lookes  not  with  the  cyes,but  with  the  mlnde; 
And  therefore  is  wingd  Cu^td  painted  blinde. 
Nor  hath  louesminde  of  any  iudgemencta()e: 
Wiflgs,andnoeye$,figure,vnbcedyhafle. 
And  therefore  is  loue  faid  co  bee  a  childe.* 
Becaufejin  choycc,  he  is  fo  oft  beguiPd, 
As  waggiQi  boyes^in  game,  themfeluesforfwcare^ 
So  the  boy,Loue  ,is  pcriur'd  cuery  where. 
For,  ere  ii^^/riw lookt  on  Hermias  cyen^ 
Hec  hayld  do  woe  othc$,that  he  was  oncly  mine* 
And  when  this  haile  fome  heate/rom  Hermiajidi^ 
So  he  difToIued^andfhowtsof  oaches  didmelt« 
I  will  goc  tell  him  of  fairc  Hermioi  flight: 
Thcn,tothe  woddc^will  he  ^tomorrow  night, 
Purfue  her :  and  for  this  intelligence^ 
If  I  haue  thankes,it  is  a  deare  e<pen(es 
But  herein  meane  1  to  enrich  my  palne^ 
To  haue  his  Hghc  thither^and  baclc  againe*  'ExHp> 
E»terQii'mcc/he  C^rpmeryOndSnuggtjbe  Uj/ner^^And 
Bottom,^^^  lVeauer\  and  Flute,  the  Bellowes  mender^^^ 
Snout,r   Tinker  I  and  Starucling  the  Tayltr^ 

Qnitt,  Is  all  our  com  pany  hccre? 

!5of.  You  wercbeft  to  call  them  generally,  man  by 
inan,according  to  the  fcrippe, 

2«w»Herc  is  the  fcrowle  of  eucry  mans  name,  which  i$ 
thought  fitjthrough  al  v^'/^<^»/,*to  play  in  ourEntcrlude,be- 
fore  the  Duke,&  the  Dutches^on  hiswedding day  at  night; 
^o/^Firft  good  Te$t€rQuiftcey(zy  whatthe  Play  treats  on; 
then  read  the  names  of  the  A^orsr&fo  grow  to  a  point. 


AMidfommernightcs  drcame. 

QMtnM^ryfOUT  Play  isthc  inofl  lamentable  comcdyi 
and  moA  crudl  death  ofTyrawHi  aud  Tt>ifhy^ 

'Bdt,  A  very  good  pecce  of  worke,!  affurc  you,  SC  a  mer- 
ry,Now  gOi)d  ^eeterQuifu:es^]\ forth  your  A6tor{»,by  the 
(cro  wle^M  aflcrs,rprcade  your  fclues . 

Anfwercjajlcallyou  NtckBattam  ,theWcaucr? 

'Bott.  Rcadic  .*  Name  wh at  part  I  am forj  and procccdc, 

Quin,  YoUyNict^Battom  are  fccdowncforT'/r^ww. 

^ott*  Whac  is  Pyramus?  a  loner,  or  a  tyrant?  - 

Qtitn,  A  louer  that  kits  himfclfe,  mo(^  gallanr^for  loue. 

Bott.  That  will  afkc  fomc  teares  in  the  true  performing 
ofic,  Jf  Idoeit,letthc  Audience  lookcto  their  eyesjwil 
mooue  Hormcs :  I  will  condole^in  Tome  meafure.  To  the 
reft  yct,my  chicfc  humour  ts  for  atyrant«  1  could  play  £r* 
eUs  rarely , or  a  part  to  teare  a  Cat  in ,  to  make  ail  fplit  the 
raging  rocks :  and  fhiuering{hocks,(hallbrcake  the  locks 
ofpriion  gates,  and  ?<&/^^wcarre  fiiallfhinc  from  farrc, 
and  make  &  marrethc  fooliOi  Fates.This  waslofcic.Now, 
name  the  reft  of  the  Players.  Thisis  £rtf/wvaine,a  tyrants 
vaine :  A  louer  is  morecondoling, 

Quin  FraHcuFlHtej^ihc.  Bellowes  mender. 

Tlf^.  Here  Teeter  Quiftce, 

Qut»,Flute,yo\i  muft  take  'fhijhy^  on  you, 

Fta.  What  it  Thtfhffh  wandring  knight? 

Qutft*  It  is  the  Lady,that  Pyramw  muft  loue.  (ming* 

F/.Nayfaith.Iet  not  me  play  a  woma;I  hauc  abeard  co- 

Quin^  That$allone:you  fliall  play  stinaMalkcjandyou 
may  fpeake  as  fmall  as  you  will, 

!^<;rr.And  I  may  hide  my  face.  Jet  me  play  Thifhy  to  -  lit 
fpeake  in  a  monftrous  little  voice;  Thifneythifne^  ah  Py-* 
ramtu^my  louer  deare,thy  ThyJhydt2iiz^tL  Lady  dearc. 

£J^.No,no  you  muft  play  PyramwiU  Fhtte^  you  Thy[hy^ 

i?/?/. Wclljprocccde^  Quk %ehm StarHeIingyxh<: Tailcif 

Sur^  Here  Peeur  Quiftce. 

Qmm,  Rftbin  SMrnelin^^  you  muft  play  Thypyes  mothers 
&z  Tom 


Tom  Snome  ,  the  Tinker? 
Snowt.  Here  Peter  Quince^ 

Qmn,  You,  Pyramus  father;  my  kXk^Tbifhies  father; 
5««i^^OthcIoyHcr,you  the  Lyons  part:  And  I  hope  here 
is  a  Play  fitted* 

Smgjii^vkt  you  the  Lyons  part  written?  Pray  you  ^  xfit 
bee,giuett  mcctforl  amfloweofiludie» 

Youmay  doe  it  ^extemforei  for  it  is  nothing  but 
roaring. 

Bott»  Let  mee  play  the  Lyon  to. I  will  roarc  y  that  I  will 
doe  any  mans  heart  good  to  he  ace  mee,  I  will  roare^  that 
Iwill  make  the  Duke  fay;  Lethimroareagaine:let  hhn 
roare  againe« 

QiUn^Ktid  you  fhould  do  it  too  tcrribly,you  would  fright 
theDutchefTc^andthe  Ladtes,thatthey  would  fhrike;aDd 
that  were  inough  to  hangrsaU^ 
jiU'  That  would  hang  vs^  eucry  mothers  fonne* 


out  of  their  wits,thcy  would  haue  no  more  difcretion,but 
to  hang  vs  J  but  1  will  aggrauate  my  voice  fo ,  thati  wil 
roareyou  as  gencly,as  any  focking  douetlwill  roarc  you, 
and 'twere  any  Nightingale. 

Qm».Yom  can  play  no  part  but  Piramtu :  for  Piramus  is  a 
fweete  fac'tman;  a  proper  man  as  one  fhallfee  in  a  fom- 
mexsday;a  \r\o^  lonely  g entlcmanlike man ;  therefore 
you  muftnecdesplayT/V^wAtfv 

Bot^  Wcll;I  will  vndcnak€  it  ♦  What  beard  were  1  bcft 
to  play  it  in? 

Qian.  Why?whatyou  will. 
Bcft^.  wil  dilchargc  it,  in  either  your  ftraw  colour  beard^ 
your  Orange  tawnic  beardc,your  purple  in  grainc  beardj 
oryourfrcnchcrownccoIourbcard,your  perfit  yeflov/, 

QuinSovsic  of  your  frcnch  crowncs  haue  no  baircat  all; 
and  then  you  will  play  bare  fac't.  Butmaiftcrs  here  arc 
yourparts^and  I  am  co  intteatyou^rcquel)  y ou^and  defire 


you 


A  MIdfomtncr  nightcs  drcme. 

you^tocoathem  by  to  morrow  night  t  and  mcete  mce  in 
thepalace  wood,a  miIcwithoutthctownc,by  Moonc- 
ligh^  cbere  will  wcc  rchcarfc : for  ifwcc  mccce  in  the  city, 
wee  (hal  be  dogd  mth  company^and  our  deuifes  known. 
In  the  meane  time^I  will  draw  a  bill  of  properties^  fuch  as 
our  play  wants*  I  pray  you  faile  me  noc^. 

Wee  will  tnectCj^  there  we  may  rebcarfc  moft  ob- 
fcencly,andcoragiou%*  Take  paines,  bee  perfir :  adieu. 
QiiPt*  At  the  Dukes oke  wcc  mectc. 

Enoughtholdcjor  cut  bowflrings.  Exeunf. 
SrAtr  a  Fairic  at  one  dcorey^nd  Robm  goodfelio w 
at  another^ 

%obm^mi  now  fpirii,  whither  wander youf 
Fi^.Ouet  htll^ouer  dalc,thorough  bufli^thorough  brier^ 

Ouerparkcjoucrpale^thorough  Sood,thorough  fire: 

I  do  wander  cucry  where^fwifter  than  the  Moons fphere: 

And  I  fcruc  the  Fairy  Queencj  to  dew  her  orbs  vpon  the 

The  cowflippes  tall  her  Pen  fioncrs  bee,  ( greenc* 

In  their  gold  coats/pottcsyou  fee: 

Thofc  be  Rubies^Fairie  fauourst 

In  thofc  freckies^liue  their  fauours^ 

I  muft  goe  fceke  fomc  dew  droppcs  here. 

And  hang  a  pearic  in  eucry  coullippcs  care. 

Farewell  thou  Lobbc  offpirits:lle  begon. 

Our  Qacene,  and  all  her  Elues  comebere  anon. 
^o^,Thc  king  doth  kcepc  hisRcuds  hereto  night. 

Take  hccde  the  Qucene  come  not  within  his  fights 

For  ObcYon  is  pafling  fell  and  wrath? 

Becaufe  that  flie^as  her  attendaivt,hath 

Aioucly  boy  ftollcn/roman  Indian  king; 

She  ncucr  had  fofweetea  changeling. 

And  iealous  Ohtron  would  hauc  the  cbildc. 

Knight  of  his  traine,  to  trace  the  forrcftswilde* 

But  fhce,pcrforce  .withhoulds  the  louedboy, 
Crowncs  him  with  flowcrs^and  maktshim  allhcrioy* 

B}  And 


A  Midfbmmcrnightcs  drcame* 

And  now^thcy  neuer  mccte  in  groue,of  grccne. 
By  foantame  cleare  ^or  fpangled  Oarlighc  fhecne^ 
But  they  doc  fquare^that  all  their  Elucs,  forfcarc, 
Creepc  into  acorne  cups^and  hide  them  there. 

Either  I  miflakc  your  fhapc^and  making, quitc^ 
Or  els  you  arc  that  fhrewde  and  knauifh  fpritc^ 
Call'd  Robin  g9odfeUow.  tat  not  you  hec. 
That  frights  the  maidens  ofthc  Villageree, 
Skim  railke^andfometimcslabourin  the  qucrne, 
Andbootlefle  make  the  brcathleffc  hufwife  chcrne. 
And  fometimc  make  the  drinke  to  beare  no  barme, 
Miflelead  nightwandercrs  Jaughing  at  their  harmed 
Thole3th at  Hobgoblin  call  you  jandfweete  Puck, 
You  doc  their  worke,  and  ttiey  (hall  hauc  good  luck. 
Arenotyouhee? 

i^o^.Thoufpeakeft  aright  ;ram  that  merry  wanderer  of 
I  ieafi  to  Oberon^zxii  make  him  fmile,  (the  nighty 

When  I  a  fat  andbcane-fedhorfe  beguile; 
Neyghing,in  likeneflc  of  a  filly  folc. 
Ana  fometimc  lurke  I  in  a  goffippcs  bole, 
In  very  likeneflc  of  a  roflcd  crabbe^ 
And  when  flic  drinkes,again(l  her  lips  I  bob. 
And  on  her  withered  dc  wIop,poure  the  ale. 
The  wifeft  Aunt,telling  the  faddeft  talc, 
Sometimcjfor  three  fooccfloolc^miftaketh  mce; 
Thcnflippclfromherbummc^downe  topples  flic. 
And  tailour  crycs^and  fallcs  into  a  coffc; 
And  then  the  whole  Quire  hould  their  hippes^and  loflFe^ 
And  waxen  in  their  myrth,and  neczc^and  fwearc 
A  merrier  howcr  was  neuer  wafle  d  therc« 
But  roome  Faery:  here  comes  Oberoft, 

/a  And  here,  my  mi  ftrciTc* Would  that  he  were  gon* 
Emerthe  KingofF^iries^  dt  onedoon^witb  hiji  tramei 
4tnd  the  Queeffe,at  anotheryVpith  h&rs. 
Oht  III  met  by  mooncJipht^proud  TpanU^ 


A  MiJibmmernightesdrcame, 

Qu^Wh  a  tjTcalous  0-^w»?Fairy{ld[>pc  hence, 
I  hauefbrfworne  his  bedde,and  company « 
OA  Tarry ,ra£h  wanton*  Am  not  I  thy  Lordf 
Q^ThcnlmuftbcthyLady:  but  I  know 
When  thouhall  Pollen  away  from  Fairyland, 
And  in  th  e  fhape  of  Corw/at  all  day. 
Playing  on  pipes  of  corne^  and  vcrnng  loue. 
To  amorous  Phillida^NhY  art  thou  here 
Come  from  the fanheft  ftcppe  of  hdiat 
But  that/or(both^the  bounling  ^;9!r4|/^«^ 
Your  buQcindmiflrene,  and  your  warriour  loue^ 
To  The  fern  muft  be  wedded ;  and  you  come. 
To  giue  their  bedde,  ioy  and  profperitie* 

Ob^  How  canft  thou  thus,for  fliame,7)M»#^, 
Glaunce  at  my  credit,  with  HiffoUtaf 
KnowingjI  know  thy  loue  to  Tbe/eas^ 
Dtdtt  not  thoulead  him  through  the  glimmering  nlght> 
From  P^r^m^, whom  he  rauifhed/ 
And  make  him^withfaire  Eagles^breake  his  faith 
With  ^riadne^  and  AntiofA^ 

fij^ftf.Thefeate  the  forgeries  of  iealouficj 
And  neuer,  (ince  the  middle  Sommers  fpring. 
Met  we  on  hill,in  dale,f  orreft^or  meade^ 
By  paued  fountaine,  or  by  rufhic  brooke. 
Or  in  thebeachcd  margent  of the  Sea, 
To  daunce  our  ringlets  to  the  whirling  winde. 
But  wi  th  thy  brawlcs  thou  ha{l  didurbd  our  fport* 
Therefore  the  windcs^pyping  to  vs  in  vaine, 
Asinreucnge,hauefuckt  vp/romthe  Sea, 
Contagious  foeges :  which^fallmg  in  the  land. 
Hath  euery  pelting  riuctmadc  foproude^ 
That  they  haue  ouerborne  their  Continentf« 
The  Oxc  hath  therefore  ftrctchc  hisyoakcinvame^ 
The  Ploughman  lofthis  fweat,and  the  grcenecornc 
Hath  roued.cre  his  youth  attainde  a  beatde: 

B4  The 


/imiuiuamicx  nigucc^  uicamc. 

The  fold  flands  empcyyin  the  drowned  fields 
And  Crowes  are  fatted  with  the  marrion  fio  eke, 
Tlie  nine  mens  Morris  is  fild  vp  with  mudde* 
Andthe  qucint  Mazcs,in  the  wanton  grccne, 
For  lacke  of cread^  are  vndiftinguifhable. 
The  humane  mortals  want  their  win  tcr  heerc 
No  night  is  now  with  hymne  or  carroll  blcft* 
Therefore  the  Mooncf  the  goucrnclTe  of  floods) 
Pale  in  her  anger,  wafhcs    the  aire; 
That  Rhcumaticke  difcafesdoe  abound. 
And^thorougli  this  diflcmperaturc,wec  fee 
The  feafons  alter :hoary headed  frofts 
Fall  in  thefrefh  iappeof  the  Crymfonroft, 
And  on  old  Hyems  chinne  and  Icy  crovvne. 
An  odorous  Chaplct  of  fweete  Sommex  buddes 
Is,as  in  mockery  ,fct  The  Spring,  the  Sommer, 
The  childing  Autumne^ngry  Winter  change 
Their  wonted  Liucrics  j  and  the  mazed  worldc. 
By  their  increafe^nowkhowes  not  which  is  wbicbs 
And  this  fame  progeny  of  euils> 
Comes  from  our  debate^  from  our  diffention  % 
We  are  their  Parents  and  original!. 

Ohtron.  Doe  you  amend  it  then  X  it  Ives  in  you« 
Why  (hould  TttanU  croflc  her  Obermt 
I  doe  but  begge  a  little  Changeling  boyj 
To  be  my  Henchman* 

Set  yourbcarr  atre^^* 
The  Faiery  Land  bui es not  the  cbilde  of meet 
His  mother  was  a  Votrcflc  of  my  order: 
And  in  the  fpiced  hds^*s  ayer,by night, 
Full  often  hath  fhc  goffipt.by  my  fide. 
And  fatj  withmc  onNeftuuesytViovi  hn6s 
Marking  thVmbarked  traders  on  the  flood  t 
When  we  h  aoc  laugh  t  to  fee  the  failcs  con  ceaue, 
Andgcowbiggcfacllicd,withthc  wanton  winde; 

Whieh 


AMidfommer  nightcs  dreamc* 

which  flie^with  prcttic,and  with  fwimming  gate, 

FollowiDgCher  wombcihcn  rich  with  my  young  fquirc) 

Would  imitate^  and  faileypon  the  land^ 

To  fetch  me  triftes,andictumc  againc. 

As  from  a  voy  age^rich  with  niarcnandiic* 

But  {he,being  moicall^of  that  boy  did  dye, 

And^for  her  fake,  doe  I  teaie  vp  her  boy; 

And,for  her  fake^I  will  not  part  with  him- 

O^^How  longjwithin  this  wood,encend  you  flay? 
Quee^  Pcrchaunce^till  after  Ti&/r/^»/  wedding  day. 

If  you  will  patiently  daunce  in  our  Rounds 

And  fee  ourMooneJight  Reuelle8,goe  with  vsj 

If  not,{hunnc  me^and  I  will  fpare  your  haunts^ 
Ok  Glue  mce  that  boy,  and  I  will  goe  with  thee. 
Quee.  Not  for  thy  Fairy  kingdorae.  Fairies  away. 

We  fliali  chide  downeright^tf  I  longer  flay*  Exeunt^ 
Oh,  Well:  goe  thy  way.Thou  flialt  not  from  this  groue^ 

Till  I  torment  thee,  for  thi$iniury« 

My  gentle P/^ri^^  come  hither:  thou  remembrcfl^ 

Since  once  I  fat  vpon  a  promontory^ 

And  heard  a  Mearemaide^  on  a  Dolphins  backe^ 

Vttering  fuch  dulcet  and  hermoniousbreatb^ 

That  the  rude  fea  grewe  ciuill  at  heribng. 

And  ccttaine  flarresChoc  madly  from  their  Sphcares, 

Toheare  the  Sea-maids  muflckc* 

PhcI^*,  I  remember^ 
O^.Tbatvery  time^I  faw(butthou  could*flnot} 
Flying  betweene  the  colde  Moodc  and  the  earthy 
CufidysSl  arm'd :  a  cenaine  aime  he  tooke 
At  a  f aire  Veftall, throned  by  weft. 
And  loof'd  his  loue-  fliaft  fmartly/rom  his  bowe. 
As  itfliouldpearce  a  hundred  thoufand  hearts: 
But^l  might  fee  young         fiery  fliaft 
Quencht  in  the  chafl  beames  of  the  watry  Moone: 
And  thcimpcnall  VotrcHe  paflfed  on^ 


A  Midfommernightesdreame. 

In  maiden  meditation,  fancy  free. 

Yet  maikt  I,  where  the  bolt  of  CufidfkH* 

It  fell vpon  a  liide  weflcrne  flower; 

Before,  milke  wbite;now  purple^  with  loueswound. 

And  maidens  call  it,  Loue  in  idlenefle . 

Fetch  mee  that  flowre :  the  herbe  I  (hewed  thee  once. 

The  ic  wee  of  it,on  fleepingeyeliddeslaide, 

Will  make  or  m  an  or  worn  an  ma  dly  d  o  te^ 

Vpon  ihc  next  liueaeature  that  it  lees. 

Fetch  mee  thisherbe^and  be  thou  here  again e 

Ere  the  Leuiathan  can  fwimme  a  league* 

^uMq  put  a  girdle^roud  about  the  earthy  forty  minutes. 

Obefon.  Hauingoncethisiulce^ 
lie  watch  Tttania^  when  flie  is  a  fleepCj 
And  droppe  the  liquor  of  It,  in  her  eyes: 
The  next  thing  then  03e,waldngj|ookes  vpon 

gic  itonLyon^Beare,or  Wolfe,  orBull^ 
n  medling  Monky,or  on  bufie  Ape ) 
She  (ball  purfiie  it,  with  the  foule  of  Loue. 
And  ere  1  take  this  charme,  from  of  her  (ight 
f  As  I  can  take  it  with  another  herbe) 
lie  make  her  render  vp  her  Page,  to  mee« 
But,who comes herefl  am  inuifible. 
And  Iwillouerheare  their  conference. 

^fff^r  Demetrius,  Helena^^ZS^m^^^  # 
Jbme,  /loue  thee  not:thereforepurfue  me  not, 
Where  is  Lyfandert^nd  faire Herma? 
The  one  He  fiay:  the  other  (layeth  me. 
Thou  toldft  me,  they  were  (tolne  vnto  this  wood: 
And  heream  1  ^  and  wodde,within  this  wood; 
Becaufe  I  cannot  taecte  my  Hermia. 
Hence,get  the  gone,and  follow  mee  no  more. 

Hel^  You  draw  mee^you  hard  heaned  Adamant: 
But  yetyoudrawnot  Iron.  For  my  heart 
l8  true  as  fieele«Leaue  you  your  power  todraw^ 

And 


A  Midfommernightesdreame* 

And  I  (hall  haue  no  power  to  folio  w  you, 
D^iw.  Doe  I  entifeyouf  Doe  I  fpcakcyoufairc? 

Or  rather  doe  I  not  in  plained  cruthe^ 

Tell  you  1  doe  nor,  not  I  cannot  loue  youf 
Hele.  And  euen,for  thar^do  1  loucy  ou,  the  more: 

I  am  yourSpanicll :  and,  Demetriusy 

The  moreyoubeatmee,IwiIl  fawnc  on  you. 

Vfe  mebutasyourSpanicIi  :fpurncme,ftrikcniee, 
NegleA  n[iee,loofe  me :  onely  giue  me  Icaue 
(Vnwonhie  as  I  am)tofollowyou. 
What  worfer  place  can  ibcgge/in  your  loue 
( And  yet,  a  place  of  high  refpect  with  mce) 
Then  tobevfedasyouvfcyourdogge, 

D«wf.  Tempt  not,  too  much,thc  hatred  of  my  fpirit. 
Fori  am  fick,when  1  do  looke  on  thee, 

Hele.  And  I  am  fick,  when  I  looke  not  on  you. 
Deme,  You  doeimpeach your modelftie  toomuck3 
To  leauc  thecitie^and  commit  your  felfe. 
Into  the  hands  of  one  that  louesy  ou  not^ 
To  truft  the  opportunitie  of  night. 
And  the  ill  counfell  ofa  defertplace. 
With  the  rich  worth  of  your  virginitie. 

HeU  Yourvertue  is  my  priuiledge  \  Forthat 
It  is  not  night,  when  I  doe  fee  your  face. 
Therefore,  I  thinke,  lara  not  in  the  night. 
Nor  doth  this  wood  lacke  worlds  ofcompany. 
For  you,  in  ray  refpe<ft,are  all  the  worlds 
Then,  how  can  it  be  faide,!  am  alon^ 
When  all  the  world  is  here,  to  looke  on  mee? 

lieme.  lie  runne  from  thee,and  hide  me  in  the  brakes, 
Andleaue  ihecto  the  mercy  of  wilde  foeaftes, 

HeU  The  wildcft  hath  not  fuch  a  heaift  as  you. 
Runne  when  you  will  r  The  Aory  fjiall  be  cbaung^: 
ApUo  flies  and  Daphne  holds  the  chafe: 
ThcDouc  purfucs  die  Griffon:  the  mildc  Hinde 

Cz  Make 


AMIdlbmmer  nightes  dreamc. 

Makes  fpeede  to  catch  theTigre.  Bootelefle  fpccdc^  231 
Whcncowardifc  purfucs^and  valour  flics. 

Demeu  I  will  not  flay  thy  quedions*  Let  mc  goc; 
Or  ifthou  followc  mee,  do  not  bdceue, 
But  I  (hall  doe  thee  mifchtefe,  in  the  wood.  233 

HeLl^  in  ibeTctnple,in  the  townc^tbc  fidde. 
You  doe  me  mifchicfc  ♦  Fy  Demetriuu 
Your  wrongs  doe  fet  a  fcandall  on  my  (ex.* 
We  cannot  fight  for  loue ,  as  men  may  doe:  239 
We  fhould  be  woo*d,and  were  not  made  lowooe. 
Be  follow  thee  and  make  a  heauen  of  hell^ 
To  dy  vpon  the  hand  I  loue  fo  well* 

O^.Farc  thee  well  Nymph,  Ere  he  dolcaue  this  groue ^  243 
Thou  (haft  fly  bim^^andhe  fliallfeekc  thy  loue. 
Haft  thou  the  flower  there?  Welcome  wanderctt 
Enter  Pucke* 

p/^ci^  I,  there  It  is. 

Ob^  I  pray  thee  giuc  it  mee#  247 
I  know  a  banke  where  the  wilde  time  bio wes;^ 
Where  Oxlips,  and  the  nodding  Violeterowes^ 
Quite  ouercanopi'd  with  luQiious  woodbine^ 
With  (weeteniuikerofes^  and  wiih  Eglantine;  25/ 
There  fleepes  tytumay  fomctimeof  the  night, 
Luld  in  thefe  flowers^with  daunces  and  delight: 
And  there  the  fnake  throwesherenammeldrkinne. 
Weed  wide  enough  to  wrappe  a  Fairy  in,  235 
And,  with  the  iuyce  of  this^Ile  ftrcakehereycsj 
And  make  her  full  of  hateful!  phantaHes. 
Take  thou  fome  ofir,  and  fccke  through  this  grouc? 
A  (wecte  K^thenun  Lady  is  in  louc^ 
With  a  difdainefuil  youth :  annoint  his  eyes» 
But  doe  its  when  the  next  thing  heefpics. 
May  be  the  Ladic.Thou  flialt  know  the  man. 
By  the  y^/^7f«M;y garments  he  hath  on^ 
EfFcfl  it  wiih  fome  carc>ihat  he  may  proouc 

More 


AMidfommer  nightC5  drcame* 

More  fond  on  her^  then  flie  vpon  her  loue« 
And  looke  thou  mcete  me  ere  the  firft  Cocke  crowc, 
Pa^Fcare  not  my  Lord ;  your  fc  ruant  fhall  do  fo.  Exeunt , 

£»/<?rTytania  QueeneofFAiries^  with  her  trainee 
Qttee,  Come^  novvaRoundelJ^and  a  Fairy  (bog: 
Then,for  the  thirdpartofa  minute  hence. 
Some  to  kill  cankers  in  the  musk  rofe  buds. 
Some  warre  with  Reremife,  for  their  Icthtcn  wings. 
To  make  my  fm  all  Eiues  coates^and  fome  keepe  backe 
The  clamorous  Owle,that  nightly  hootes  and  wonders 
At  our  queintfpirits  •Sing  me  now  a  fleepe; 
Then  toyour  offices, and  let  mee  rcft« 
Fairies fing^ 
You  fpotted  Snakes,  with  double  tongue , 
Thorny  Hedgehoggesbe  not  fcene. 
Newts  and  bli'ndewormesdono  wrong. 
Come  not  neere  our  Fairy  Queene. 
FhilomeleyVi\i\i  melody. 
Sing  in  our  fwecte  Lullaby, 
Luila,iulia,luilaby,lulla,  lulla,  luUaby  , 
Neuer  harme,  nor  (pell,  nor  charme. 
Come  our  ioueiy  lady  nigh. 
So  good  night,  with  luUaby^ 

i»  Ki/.  Wcauing  Spiders  come  not  hecre: 
Hence  you  long  IegdSpinners,hences 
Beetles  blacke  approach  not  neeres 
Worme  norfnailedoenooiFence. 
^hilomele  withmelody>&c. 

2.  Fau  Hence  away  :now  all  is  well: 
One  aloofe,(iand  CentinelL 

B^/^rOberon. 
Oh.  What  thou  feefl,when  thou  docft  wake^ 
Doe  it  for  thy  tt  ue  loue  take: 
Loue  and  languifliforhisfake. 
BeitOuncc,or  Catte,orBeare, 

C  3  ^^^^i 


AMidfommernightes  dreame^ 

Pard,orBoare  with  briftlcdhaire. 
In  thy  eye  that  ftiaJI  appeare. 
When  thou  wak'(l,itis  thy  deare; 
Wake,  when  fomc  vile  thing  is  neere. 

Enter  Lyfander:  WHcrmia, 

Lyf¥z\rc  loue,you  faintc,  with  wandring  in  the  wood: 
And  tofpcakc  troth  Ihauc  forgot  our  way* 
Wcele  reft  vs  flermta^if you  ihinke  itgood, 
And  tarry  for  the  comfor  of  the  day* 

Her,  Bet  it  fo  Ly fonder:  findc  you  out  a  bedde; 
For  I,  vpon  this  banke^will  reft  my  head. 

I^y^  One  turfe  fliall  ferue^as  pillow,  for  vs  both, 
Onehcart,onebedde,  two  bofomcs,andone  troth. 

Her^  Nay  god  Lyfander :  for  my  fakc,my  deere 
Ly  further  off,  yet ;  doc  not  lye  fo  necrc. 

Lyf,  O  take  the  fenfe^fweetCjofmy  innocence* 
Loue  takes  the  mcaningjin  loues  conference, 
I  meanethat  my  heart  vnto  yours  it  knit; 
So  that  but  one  heart  wee  ean  make  of  it: 
Two  bofomcs  interchained  with  an  oath; 
So  then  two  boibmes^^and  a  (ingle  troth. 
Then,by  yourfide,no  bcd-roomc  me  deny: 
For  lying  fo^  Hermia^l  doc  not  lye. 

Her,  Ly  fonder  rlddks  very  prettily. 
Nowrnucb-befhrewe  my  manncrsjand  my  pride, 
Jf  Hermtn  meant  to  fay,  Lyf4nder\y^d<, 
But  gentle  friend^^for  loue  and  curtcfie, 
Ly  further  off,  an  humane  modefly : 
Such  reparation, as  may  well  be  faid 
Becomes  a  vercuous  batcbeler^and  a  maide^ 
So  farrc  be  diftant  j  and  good  night  fweetc  friend; 
Thy  loue  nere  alter  till  thy  fwcete  life  end. 

Lyf.  Amcn,amen,to  that  faireprayer ,  fay  I> 
And  then  end  life,  when  I  end  loy  alty* 
Hccrc  is  my  bcdiflccpc  muc  thee  all  his  reft* 

^  ^  With 


A  Midfommernightes  dreame. 

Her%  Wich  halfe  that  wifih.the  wifhers  eyes  bepreft» 

£»f<?/-Pucke« 
Fuckj'  Th  rough  the  forreft  haue  I  gone. 
But  Atbenim  found  I  none. 
On  wh  ofe  eyes  I  fnigh  t  approue 
This  flowers  force  in  ftirringloue. 
Night  and  fiience  .Who  is  heere? 
Wee  des  of  Athens  he  doth  we  arc : 
This  is  hee  (my  tnafter  faide ) 
Defpifed  the  AthetUanxsx^At,, 
Andherethe  maiden,  fleepingfound^ 
On  the  danke  and  dirty  ground. 
Pretty  fo wlc,flie  durft  not  lye, 
Neere  thislack-loue^thiskil-curtefie* 
Churlc ,  vpon  thy  eyes  I  thro  we 
All  the  power  this  charme  doth  owe: 
When  thou  wak*ft^lctloueforbidde 
Sleepe^his  (eat,on  thy  eye  lidde* 
So  awake,  when  I  am  gon : 
For  I  mu A  now  to  Oberon^  Exit. 
£»^^Demetrlus  WHelena  ruming, 

JFf(?/.Stay;  though  thou  kill  mee^fwcete  Demetrm. 

Q)e^  I  charge  thee  hence^and  doe  not  haunt  mee  thus. 

HeU.O^wSt  thou  darkling  leaue  mef  doe  not  Co, 

De^  Stayjon  thy  peiill :  I  alone  willgoe* 

HelJJji  am  out  ofbreat  h/m  this  fond  chafe^ 
The  more  my  prayer^the  Icflcr  is  my  grace, 
Happie  is  Hermia^  wherefoere  Die  lies: 
For  (he  hath  blefred,and  attrafHue  eyes. 
How  came  her  eyes  fo  brightPNot  with  faltteares* 
If  fo,my  eyes  are  ofmer  wafhtthen  hers. 
NosHo :  I  am  as  vgly  as  a  B  eare: 
Forbeaftes  that  meete  mcc^unne  away^for  fcarc. 
Thercfore,no  maruaite,  though  Demetrm 
Doe,as  amonftcr^fly  myprciencejtbust 

C4  What 


Aivuaiommcr  nigtites  dreamc^. 

what  wicked  anddiffemblingglafic, of  mioc^ 
Made  me  compare  wkhHcrmk/  fphcrycyco/ 
But,who  is  \\mlLyfa»(^i  on  the  ground*' 
Dcad»or  aflcepe?  I  fee  no  bloody  no  wounds 
X7/W<?K,ifyou  liuc,  good  fir  awake. 

LyfAnd  runnc  through  fire,  I  will  for  thy  fwecic  fake, 
Trftnfpatent  Hekna^rxzxixt^  (hewes  arte. 
That  through  thy  bofome,  makes  me  fee  thy  heart. 
Where  is  Bemetrimf  Oh  how  fit  a  word 
Is  iha«  vile  name^  to  perifti  on  my  fwotdei 

HelJ>Q  not  fay  h^Lyptnder,  fay  not  fo, 
Whas  though  he  ioue your  i/<rr^?LordjWhat  though? 
Yet  Hermm  ftill  loues  you :  then  be  content. 

Lyf,  Content  with  HermtafHo :  I  doe  repent 
The  tedious  minutes^  I  with  hex  haue  fpent. 
Not  Hermm^hvitHekttaWont^ 
Who  will  not  change  a  Rauen  for  a  douc? 
The  will  of  man  is  by  hisreafoo  fwai'd: 
And  reafonfaiesyou  arc  the  wonhier  maide. 
Things  growing  are  not  ripe,  vntill  their  feafon: 
So  I,  being  young,  till  now  ripe  not  toreafon« 
And  touching  now^thepomt  of  humane  skill, 
Reafosi becomes  the  Marfhail  to  my  wiU, 
And  leads  mee  to  your  eyes ; where  I  oreiooke 
Lcues  ftories,  written  inJouesricheftbooke^ 

iif^/.  Wherefore  was  I  to  this  keene  mockery  bomer 
When,atyoarbands,dtdl  delerue  this  icome/ 
Id  not  enough,  ift  not  enough,  young  man, 
Thatldid  ncuer,no  nor  newer  can, 
Dcieme  a  (weetelookefrom  Demeiriustje^ 
But  you  muft  flout  my  iofufficiency^ 
Good  troth  you  doe  mee  wrongfgood  foothyoudoe) 
In  Aicb  difdainfuUmanner,ineef o  wooe« 
6ttt,£ireyou  well :  perforce^  Imudconfeffey 
I  thoughtyott  Lord  of more  true  gentlcneAv 


A  Midfbmmcr  nightcs  drcamc 

that  a  Lad'ie,  of  one  niati  rcfiif'd  , 

SfiouId,ofanother,diercrorc  beabuM/  Exft» 
fyf^Shc  fees  not  Hermta ,  Hermf'a,  ileepethou  there^ 

And  neucr  m  afft  thou  come  Ljfander  nccrc. 

For,as  a  fu  rfct  of the  fwcctcft  things 

The  dcepeft  loathing,  to  rhe  Romackebringes: 

Or,  as  the  hereHes^tnat  men  docleauc^ 

Arc  hated  moft  ofthofc  they  did  decciue: 

So  thou,Tny  furfef3and  my  hercfic. 

Ofallbeehated;but  thcmoftjot  mcc; 

And  all  my  powers  addreffeyour  loue  and  might. 

To  honour  Hehf, znd  to  be  her  knight.  Exit* 
Her,  Helpc  mee  Lyfa^iderjnelpc  mcc :  do  thy  bcft 
To  pluck  this  crawling  fcrpcni^from  my  brefi« 
Ay  mee,for  piitic.  What  a  dreame  was  hcref 
i;(/3tt?</#r  I ookc,  how  I  doc  quake  withfearc. 
Me  chought^a  ferpcnt  cate  my  heart  away. 
And  you  late  fmiling  athiscruellpray. 
Lyfander  what»remou*df  Lyfander^laOxA^ 
What,outofhearing,gon?  Nofound,no  word? 
Alackc  where  arc  you?  Spcake,  andifyouheare; 
Spcakcjof  all  loues.  ]  fwoune  almod  with  feare* 
No,  then  I  well  perceiue,you  are  not  ny ; 
Either  deathpr  you^lle  finde  immediately,  JExit. 
Snter$he  Clownes, 

Bott^Axt  wee  all  metf 

^>9.Pat,pat :  andhercsamaruailes  conuenient  place^ 
for  our  rchearfall.Thisgrecnc  plot  fliali  be  our  ftagc, this 
hauihome  brake  out  tyring  houfc^and  wee  will  doe  it  in 
zBxoUi  as  wee  will  doe  it  before  the  Dukc» 
'Bott  Tweeter  Qnificef 

Whatfaicfl  diou,bully,S<?fr<?W 
!»<?^.There  are  thingsin  this  Comedy  ^oiJ^yramus  and 
that  will  neuerplcafc,  F irR^  Pj^ramw  mua  draw 
a  fwordctokillhimfclfci  which  the  Ladies  cannot  abide, 
'  D  How 


A  Midfommer  mglues  drc  ame. 

How  anfwereyou  that? 

Sn0Ut3cth\im^^  parlous  feare. 

S/^ir.Ibelccue^ we  muft  Icaue  the  killing,  out,when  all 
is  done. 

JSatt  $^ot  a  whit ;  Ihauc  a  deuifc  to  make  all  well.  Write 
roc  aProIogue,  and  let  the  Prologue  fceme  to  fay^we  wil 
do  no  harnie  ,  with  our  fwords ,  and  that  Tyramus  is  not 
kildindeede :  and  for  the  more  better  alTurance^tel  thetHj 
that  1  ^yramas  am  not  Pyramus, buiBottom  the  wcauer; 
this  v/ili  put  them  out  of  feare* 

5«'««WcII:  wee  will  hauc  luch  aPrologue,andit  ftiallbc 
written  in  eight  and  fix, 

Bot^o  :make  it  two  more :  let  it  be  written  in  eight  8c 

eight. 

$Koiit,  Will  not  the  ladies  be  afeard  of  the  Lyon? 

St(^r,  I  feare  it,  1  promife  you. 
'Bor.  Mafters,you  oughtto  confidet  with  your  felfe,  to 
bring  in  (Cod  (hiclde  vs)  a  Lyon  among  Ladies, is 
amoftdreadfuUthing.  For  there  is  not  a  more  fearefull 
Wilde  foulc  then  your  Lyon  liuing :  &  we  ought  to  looke 
tootc* 

StJo.  Thcrfore,  another.Prologue  mufl  tel,he  is  not  a  Lion. 
Bot^^^Y  •  y^"  "^"^  name  his  name ,  and  halfe  his  face 
murt  be  feene  through  the  Lions  necke,  and  he  himfelfe 
niuftfpeakethrough/ayingthus,  or  to  the  famedefecSl; 
Ladicsjorfaire  Ladies,!  would  vvifliyou,  or  I  would  re- 
quefiyou,orIwoId  intreatyoupot  to  feare,not  to  treble: 
my  life  foryours  Ifyou  thinke  1  come  hither  as  a  Lyon,  it 
were  pittieofmy  liie^No :  I  amnofuch  thing.*  I  am  a  man 
asother  men  are:& there  indeed,  let  him  name  his  name, 
and  tell  them  plainelvhe  is  Snugge yXhtloyntu 

Welliiifliallbero.-butth  ere  is  two  hard  things: 
that  isy  to  bring  the  Moone-light  into  a  chamber ;  for  you 
knoW)  ^Pyram/fs  and  Thtfhy  meete  by  Moone-light 
5/i,Doth  the  Moonc  fhine,that  night^we  play  our  Play? 


A  Midlbmrnernightesdrcame. 

Btf.ACalender.aCalendenlookcinthe  AImanack:finde 
out  Moonc-{bme,finde  out  Moone-fhine* 
Ycsiit  doth  ftiine  that  night. 
C^'f*  Whythcn^mayyouleaue  acaleraentofthe  great 
chamber  window^'where  weplay)open;  and  the  Moone 
may  fhine  in  at  the  cafement. 

Q^in.  I :  orels,one  muft  come  in,  with  a  bufli  ofthorns, 
6c  a  lacernjand  fay  he  comes  to  disf^gure^  or  to  prcfcnt  the 
perfon  of  Moonc-fhine.Then^lhcre  is  another  thing  ;we 
muft  haue  a  wal  in  the  great  chabert  for  T^ramuf  bcThf" 
fy(  laics  the  ftoryj  did  talkc  through  the  chinke  of  a  wall* 
ifw.You  can  neuer  bring  in  a  wal  .What  fay  you  Bottmt 
Some  man  or  other  muft  prcfent  wall:  and  let  him 
hauc  fome  plaftcr^or  fom  lome,or  fomc  rough  caft,about 
bim,to  (ignifie  wall;  orlet  him  holdehis  fingers  thus:and 
through  that  crany  ,  (hall  Pyrmns  and  T^^whif- 
per. 

Ifthatmay  be,then  all  is  wellCome,  fit  downc  e- 
uery  mothers  Tonne,  and  reherfeyoui  pans-Z^^y^iw/^/jyou 
beginne ;  when  you  haue  fpokcnyour  fpeecbj  enter  imo 
that  Brake,  and  To  euery  one  according  to  his  cue, 
JS»/tfr  Robin 

^<?.Whathempcnhomcfpunnes  hauc  we  fwaggringhere, 
So  neere  the  Cradle  of  ihc  Fairy  Qiieene? 
What,a  play  to  wardf  lie  be  an  Auditor, 
An  A6^orto  pcrhappcsjlf  I  feecaufc. 
Quia,  Speake  PyramusxThyfby(izn&(on\\^ 

Pyra^  Thi[Bytht  flowers  of  odious  fauours  fwecie, 

j^i>;.Odoun3odorous, 

Py.  Odours  fauours  fweete. 
So  hath  thy  breath,  my  dcarcft  Thifiy  deare. 
But  harke,  a  voice :  fiay  thou  but  hcere  a  while, 
And  by  and  by  I  will  to  thee  appeare*  £xit» 

Quin,  A  ftrangerPyr^fw/^i.then  ere  played hcere^ 

Thjf.  Mull  Ifpeakcnowf 

D2  I 


A  Midfommernightes  dreame. 

Qmn^  Imarry  muftyou.Foryou  muft vndcrftad^hegoes 
but  to  fee  anoyfe^that  heheard^and  istocomcagaine^ 

Tkyf,  Moft  radiant  Pyramwymo^\\\\\t  white  ofhcwe. 
Of  colour  hke  the  redrofe^on  triumphant  bryer^ 
MoO  brisky  luuenall^and  eeke  niofllouely  lewe, 
Asttuc  astrucfthorfe,  thatyct  would  ncucr  tyre^ 
He  mtete  thee  Pjframw,^tN(ftftfer  toumbe. 

Qutft.Ntnw  toumbc,njan.  Why  ?you  mud  not  fpcake 
That  yet.  That  you  anfwcre  ioPjramm»Yo\\  fpcake 
AI  your  part  at  once^cues^and^all.^^r^fKiaif^entertyourcue 
ispa(l;It  is;neQertire. 

Tfyf*Oy  as  true  as  trueft  hoHc,ihat  yet  would  ncucrtyrc, 

T/Jf  1  were  hiieyThiffhy^  were  onely  thine. 

Qjiin,  O  monftrous/O  ftrangc/W e  arc  hauntcdPray  ttia- 
ftcrs  fly  maftcr4:hclpe. 

Roh.  He  follow  you :  He  leadeyou  about  aKound^ 
Through  bogge^  through  bulb,  through  brake,  through 
Sometime  a  horle  He  be,  fometime  a  hound,  (brycr; 
A  hogge,a  hcadeleffe  Bcare>fomcrimc  a  fier. 
And  neigh, and  barke,and  grunc^  and  rore^and  bume^ 
Likchorfc,hound,hogge,beare,fire,at  euery  turne.  Exit^ 

!5p/r.Why  doe  they  runnc  awayf  Thisisa  knaucry  of 
them  to  make  mee  afeard^  £0^^ rSnowtc* 

Sfu  O  Bottom^t\io\x  art  chaung'd.  What  do  I  fee  on  thee? 
i?tfi*Whatdoeyoufee?  You  fee  an  Affc  hcadofyour 
owne#Do  you/ 

Enter  Quince,  (Exit. 

Quin  BleiTc  thee  %//009,blelTe  thee.  Thou  art  traflated. 

Bot^  I  fee  their  knauery*Thi$  is  to  make  an  affe  of  mee,to 
fright  mcjif  they  couid:but  I  wil  not  Airre  from  this  place 
do  what  they  can ,  I  will  walke  vp  and  downe  heere,  and 
will  fing  that  they  (hall  heare  I  am  not  afraide^ 
The  Woofell  cock,  fo  blacke  ofhewe^ 
With  Orange  tawny  bill. 

The 


IILi. 


121 


"5 


I2g 


'37 


141 


'45 


AMidfommer  nightes  dreamc* 

The  ThrofUe,  with  his  note  fo  true. 

The  Wrcn^  with  Jittic  quilf, 
Tytanis.  What  Angell  wakes  me  from  my  flowiybed/ 
^«/.Thc  Fy  nch  ,  tbc  Sparrowe,and  the  Lttkej 

TTic  plainfbngCuckowgray: 

Whofe  note^rull  manyamandothmaiicej 

And  dares  not  anfwere,  nay» 

For  indeede^who  would  fee  his  wit  to  (b  fooliih  a  birdel 
Wbowouldgiuea  bird  the  ly^thoughhee  cry  Cuckowj 
Dfuerfo? 

7  Ha,  \  pray  thce,gcntlc  mortall,  fing  againe* 
Myne  eare  is  much  enamoured  of  thy  note: 
So  is  mine  eye  enthralled  CO  thy /hape. 
And  chy  faire  vettties  force  (perforce  )doth  moouemec^ 
On  the  firfl  vie  we  to  fay,  to  fwcarcj  I  loue  ihec. 

"Bott.  Me  e  chinks  m  ift  refle^you  Qiouldhauc  little  rea(bn 
forthat.  Andyet^  to  fay  the  truch^  reafon  and  loue  keepe 
Ihtfe  company  together,now  a  daies.The  more  the  picty^ 
thac  fome  honeil  neighbours  will  not  make  them  friends* 


Tyta^  Thou  arc  as  wife^as  thou  art  beautifuIL 
Bott.  Notfo  neither:butif  I  had  wic  enough  to  get  out 
of  chis  wood,  I  haue  enough  co  (erne  mine  owe  turne* 

TytM  Out  of  this  wood,  doc  not  deiire  co  goer 
Thou  (halcremaine  here,  whecher  thou  wilt  orno* 
I  am  a  fpirit,  of  no  common  race: 
The  Sommer,ftill ,  doch  tend vpon  my  Rate, 
And  1  doe  loue  cbee  .*  cherefore  goe  wich  mee« 
He  giue  thee  Fairies  to  attend  on  thee: 
And  cheyfliallfecchcheelcwels^fromthcdeepe. 
And  fing, while  thou,  on  preifed  flowers^dofifleepe: 
And  I  will  puree  chy  motcall  groflencffe  fo. 
That  thou  flialc,  hkc  an  aycry  fpirit^goe. 


A  miaiommeinigntes  drcamee 

Taims,  Rcadierand  I,  and  I,  audi.  Where  fhall  we  goc? 

Tiw.Bekinde  and  curccous  tochisgcntlcmanj 
Hop  in  his  vvalkes,  and  gambole  in  his  eyes, 
Fcede  him  with  Apricocks^  and  Dewberries, 
With  purple  Grapes,  greenc  figges,  and  Mulberries, 
Thchonybagges  ftealefrom  the  humble  Bees, 
And  for  night  tapers,croppe  their  waxen  thighes. 
And  h'ght  them  at  the  fiery  Glowe-wormes  cyes^ 
Tohaiie  my  loue  to  bedde,  and  to  arife. 
And  pluck  the  wings,  from  painted  Butterflies, 
To  fanne  the  Moone-beames  from  hisfleeping  cycs^ 
Nod  to  him  Elucs,  and  doe  him  cuncfics. 
x»  Fat,  Haile  mortalI,haile. 
'^.Fai.  Haile, 
Haile* 

Bat,  I  cry  your  worfhips  mcrcy^  hartily :  I  befeechyo 
worfhippesnamct 
Cob.CohrvMe, 

"Bot.  I  fhall  defire  you  ofmore  acquaintance,good  ma 
fter  Cobtveb:  i(  I  cut  myfinger,Ifha!l  make  bolde  with 
you»  Your  name  hooeft  genilcmanf 

'Pea.  Peafe^bloffome. 

Bot.  Ipray  you  commend  mee  to  miflre(3e  S^fsafh^  your 
inothcr,andtomafter?^*i/?«4yourfather.  Good  mafter 
^^^/^-^/(^J^w^,!  fliall  defire  you  ofmore  acquaintance, 
to.  Your  name  I  befecchyoufir? 
Mu/f*  Mfffiardfiede. 

Bot-  GoodmzdetMufiardfiede^l  know  your  patience 
well.  That  fame cowardIy,gyantlike,Ox-becfe hath  de- 
uourd  many  a  gentleman  of  your  houfc.  I  promifc  you , 
yourkindred  hath  made  myeyeswater,crenow.  IdeHre 
you  more  acquaintance,good  mafter  Muflardfeede  , 

Tita.  Come  waitc  vpon  him :  leadc  him  to  my  bower* 
The  Moone,  me  thinkes,lookcs  with  a  wairy  eye: 
And  when  fhce  weepes,  weepcs  eucry  little  flower, 

Lamen. 


AMidfomniernightes  dreame, 

Lamencing  fome  enforced  chaftitie, 
Ty  vp  my  louers  tongue,  bring  him  filently  Bxit^ 
Enter  XVi/^ i>/ Fairies,  W Robin  goodfellow* 

Oh^  I  wonder  if  7/M«/4be  awakt; 
Then  what  it  was^  that  next  came  in  her  eye. 
Which  flie  muftdoteon,in  cxtreamitie. 
Here  comes  my  meifenger.Hownow^raad  fpirit? 
What  nightrule  n  ow  about  this  haunted  grouef 

pHck*  My  miftrcfle  with  a  monger  is  in  louc, 
Nccre  to  her  clofe  and  confecrated  bowen 
While  (he  was  in  her  dull,  and  fleepinghower. 
Acre wof  patches,  rude  Mechanicals, 
That  worke  for bread^vpon  Atheftian  (lalies. 
Were  met  together  to  rehearfe  a  play. 
Intended  for  great  The  feus  nuptiall  day: 
The  (halloweft  thickskinne,orthat  barraine  /brt. 
Who  Pyramm  prefented^  in  their  fporr, 
Forfooke  bis  Scene,  and  cntred  in  a  brake^ 
VVhen  I  did  him  atthisaduantage  take: 
AnAffes  nole  I  fixed  on  his  head. 
Anon \i\sThilhie mudht  anfwered. 
And  forth  my  Minnickcomes^When  they  him  fpy^ 
As  wildegeefe,  thatthe  creeping  Fouler  eye^ 
Or  ruffct  pated  choughes,  many  in  fort 
(Ry  fing,and  cawing^at  the  gunnes  report ) 
Seuer  themfelues^and  madly  fweepe  the  sky: 
So,  at  his  fjght,away  hisfellowes  fly. 
And  at  our  (tampe,here  ore  and  ore  ^one  falles: 
He  murther  cryes^  and  helpe  from  Athens  cal  s 
Their  fcnfe,thus  weake,  loft  with  their  feares^thus  ftrong 
Made  fenfelcfle  things  begin  to  doe  them  wrong 
For,briers  and  thornes,  at  their  appareIJ,fnatch: 
•Some  fleeues,  fome  hats;  from  yeelders^all  things  catch, 
I  led  them  on,in  thisdiliradedfeare. 
And  left  fweete  Pyramm  tranflatcd  there: 

D  4  When 


n  iviiuiuainier  nignies  arcamc. 

When  in  that  moment  (fo  it  came  to  paflTc ) 
jytani4  wak*t,  and  Oraight  way  lou*d  an  Afle. 

O^^Thtsrallesoutbetter^thcnlcould  deuife* 
But  had  thou  yet  latchc  t(i  e  Athtmans  ey  es^ 
Wid\  the  ioue  iuice5as  1  did  bid  thee  doe? 

Rfh,  Itookehim  (ieepingfthatis  finilht  to) 
And  the  o/^/^rfwVw  woman,  by  his  fide; 
That  when  he  wak*t,of  force  (he  muft  be  cy'd. 
Enter  Demetrius 4»^Hermia, 
Oh*  Stand  clofc-.this is  the  (zmtjithenidH, 

R$b,  This  is  the  womambut  notchis  the  man* 

J)*mef.O,W  hy  rebuke  you  him^that  louesyou  fo? 
Lay  breath  fo  bittcr,on  your  bitter  foe. 

Her,  Now  I  but  chide :  but  I  (hould  vfc  thee  worfi?^ 
Fot thou(  i  feare) haO giucnme  caufe tocurfe* 
]f  thou  had  flaine  LyfaruUr^in  his  (iecpe;  (co. 
Being  ore  (hooes  in  blood^pluoge  in  the  dcepe^Sc  kiil  mee 
The  Sunne  was  not  fo  true  vnto  the  day, 
As  hcc  to  mce»Would  hee  haue  ftollcn  away, 
Frow  deeping  HermutfWt  bcleeue^  as  foone. 
This  whole  earth  may  bebor'dj  and  that  the  Moone 
May  through  the  Center  creepe^  and  fo  diipieafe 
Her  brothers  noonetide^with  t\k'Antifodtf» 
It  cannot  be,  but  thou  haf!  murdred  him* 
So  (houlda  marthererlookcjfodeadjfbgrlmme^ 

^em,  Solhould  the  murthcred  lookc^an d  fb  /hould 
PearH  through  the  heart,  with  your  flerne  cruelty^ 
YetyoUj  themnrtherer,lookc  as  bright,  as  cleere. 
As  yon6tx  Venus^  in  her  glimmering  Tphearc. 

He\  Whats  this  to  my  Lyfitnderf  Where  is  hcc? 
Ah  good  DemetrittSf  wik  thou  giue  him  mee? 

fD^w^.lhad  rather  giue  his  carcaHe  to  my  hounds. 

i7fr, Out  dog,out  curre ;  chou  driu'ft  me  pad  the  bounds 
Of  maidens  patience.  Had  thou  daine  him  then? 
Hcnccfotth  be  neuer  numbrcd  among  men* 

O 


A  Midfommer  nightes  dreamc* 

0^oncetclItruc:tcIltruc,euenformyrakc:  • 
Durfl  thou  haiielookt  vpon  him^bcing  awake? 
Ana  nancnou  kiia  nim,^::^!"^-'^  brau^  rutch; 
Could  not  a  wormc^an  Adder  do  fo  much? 
An  Adder  did  it;  For  with  doubler  tongue 
Then  thyne(thou  (crpencj  neuer  Adder  ming. 

Deme,YoM  fpendc  yourpaflion,on  amilprird  mood: 
J  am  not  guilty  of  Lyy^v^/^/bloode: 
Nor  is  he  deade^fbr  ought  that  I  can  tell. 

Her,  I  pray  thee^tell  mee  then,that  he  is  well. 

-Df*  And  if  I  could^what  fhould  I  get  therefore^ 

Her.  A  priuiledge,neuerto  fee  mee  more; 
And  from  thy  hated  prefence  part  I :  fee  me  no  morq 
Whether  he  be  dead  orno.  Exit. 

Deme.  There  is  no  following  her  in  this  fierce  vaine* 
Heeretherefore/or  a  while,I  will  remaine. 
Sofbrrowesheauinefle  doth  heauiergrowe. 
For  debt  that  bankrout  flippe  doth  forrow  owe: 
Which  now  in  fome  flight  meafure  it  will  pay; 
If  for  his  tender  here  I  make  fbme  ftay^  Ly  dome, 

Ob.  Wh  at  haft  thou  donefThouhaft  miftaken  quite. 
And  laid  theloueiuice  on  fome  true  loues  %ht. 
Of  thy  mifprifion,muft  perforce  enfue 
Some  true  loue  turn  d,  and  not  a  falfe  turnd  true. 

iRe»^/.Thenfate  orerulcs>thatonc  man  holding  troth^ 
A  million  faile,  confounding  oath  on  oath  ^ 

Ob.  About  the  wood^goe  fwifter  then  the  winde. 
And  Helenao^  Athens  looke  thou  finde. 
All  fancy  ficke  (he  is  and  pale  of  cheere. 
With  fighes  of  loue,  that  cofts  the  frefli  blood  dcare. 
By  fome  illufion  fee  thou  bring  her  here: 
lie  charme  his  eyes,  againft  ftie  doe  appears 

7^te,Igoe^Igoe,  looke  how  I  goe# 
Swifter  then  arrow,  from  the  Tartars  bowe 

O^.  Flower  of  this  purple  dy, 

£  Hit 


n  iviiaiommer  nigtitcs  dreame. 

Hitwith  Capidsskxchety, 
Sinke  in  appIeo'"his  eye. 
When  his  louc  he  doth  cfpyj 
Let  her  fhine  as  glorioufly 
As  iUtV^fiui  of  the  sky. 
When  thou  wak*!!,  if  fiie  be  by, 
Bcgge  ofhcr;  for  renoedy, 

^Mckj  Captaine  of  our  Fairy  band, 
JYif/^//4is  heere  at  hande^ 
And  the  youth,  miftooke  by  mcc. 
Pleading  fora  loucrs  fee 
Shall  wee  their  fond  pageant  fee? 
Lord,wbat  foolesthefc  mortals  bee/ 

0^4  Stand  afidc.The  noy  fe,tbey  make, 
Will  c  aufe  Demetrmf  to  a  wake, 

Pu,  Then  will  two^  at  once,wooe  one? 
Thatmuftneedesbe  fport  alone. 
And  tbofe  things  do  beft  pleafe  mee^ 
That  befall  prepoflVoufly. 

^/?/f>'Lyfander,4«fi(  Helena* 

Ly[^  Why  fhouldyou  think,that  I  fliould  wooe  in  fcorne? 
Scome,  and  derifion ,  neuer  comein  teares. 
Looke  whenTvow,!  weepe :  andvowesibbomej 
In  their  oatiuitie  ail  truth  appeares. 
How  can  thefc  things^in  mce^feeme  fcome  to  you? 
B  eating  the  badge  of  faith  to  prooue  them  t  rue^ 

Hel^  You  doe  aduance  your  cunning,  more,  and  more^ 
When  trueth  killes  truth,  6  diuelifh  holy  fray/ 
Thefe  vowes  are  Hermias^  Will  you  giue  her  ore? 
Weigh  oath,withoath>andyou  will  nothing  waigh. 
Your  vowes  to  her^and  meef  putin  two  fcales ) 
Will  cuen  weigh:  and  both  as  light  as  tales* 
Lyf.  I  had  no  iudgement,when  to  her  I  (wore. 
Hp/*Nor  none^in  my  minde^nowyou  giue  her  ore. 


niii. 


J43 


147 


151 


'55 


'59 


163 


A  Mid/brnmernightesdreame. 


Z^yl  DemetrMs\oucshcr:Attd  he  loues  notyou. 
Dem^.  O         goddcffe,  nymphjpcrfed  diuine. 
To  whaf,my  louc,  (hall  I  compare  thine  cync/ 
Chriftall  is  muddy.O,  how  ripe,  in  fliowe, 
Thyiippcsjthorekifliing  chcTries,cempunggrowcy 
That  pure  coniealed  white,  high  Taurus  mow, 
Fand  with  the  Eafteme  wiiide,turnc$to  a  crowe, 
When  thou  holdftvp  thy  hand,  O  lecmekifTe 
This  Princefle  of  pure  white^thisfcale  of  bliflc. 

Help  fpigfat/O  hellf  I  fee,  you  all  are  bent 
To  fee  againd  mee^  for  your  merriment^ 
If you  were  ciuill,  andknew  curtefte. 
You  would  not  doe  mee  thus  much  iniury* 
Can  you  not  hate  mee^as  1  know  you  doe» 
Butyou  roudioyne^ih  foules^  to  mocke  meetof 
If  you  were  men^asmenyou  areinfhowe^ 
You  would  not  vfe  a  gentle  Lady  fo; 
To  vowe,  andfweare,  and  fuperpraife  my  parts. 
When  I  am  (lire  ^you  hate  mee  with  yourhearcs^ 
You  both  are  Riuals^and  loqe  Htrmmx 
And  now  both  Riualles,  to  mock  Hc/ena* 
A  trim  exploit^  a  manly  enterprife. 
To  coniure  reares  vp,in  a  poore  maides  eyes. 
With  yourderifion  Nonejofnoblefort^ 


Apoore  foulespatiencc,alito  make  you  fport. 

Ly/htdy  You  arevnkinde,  jD^iwf^r/w :  be  not  fo. 
For  y  oulpue  //^rw«:  this  you  know  I  know 
And  beare^  with  all  good  will,with  alimy  heart;^ 
In  Hermiasloue  ly  eeldeyou  vp  my  part: 
And  yours  olHeUfta^  to  mee  bequeath: 
Whom  I  doeloue,  and  will  do  till  my  death. 
//)f/.Ncuerdid  mockers  wafte  more  idle  breath. 
Dem.  Lyfandcr^z^t  thy  HermiA :  I  will  none. 
If  ere  I  iou*d  her^all  that  loue  is  gone. 


El 


My 


AMidlommer  nightes  dreamc* 

My  heart  to  her,but  as  gueftwifc ,  foiournd: 
And  now  to  Helen ,  is  it  home  rctumd. 
There  lo  remaine, 

Lyf,  Helen y  \  t  is  not  fo. 

D^w^.DiTparage  not  the  faith,  thou  doft  not  know; 
Leaft  to  ihy  perill,  thou  aby  it  dcarc, 
Lookc  where  thy  louc  comes  r  yonder  is  thy  dcare* 
Enter  Hermia. 
Her»  Darke  night^that  from  the  eye,  his  funiflion  takes^ 
The  eare  more  quicke  of  apprehenhon  makes* 
Wherein  it  doth  impairc  the  feeing  fenfc, 
It  paycs  the  hearing  double  recompence. 
Thou  artnot,by  myne  eye,  Lyfander^^om^ii 
Mine  eare^l  thanke  it3brought  me  to  thy  found. 
But  why^vnkindly.didrt  thou  leaue  mce  fo? 

Lj(.  Why  fhouIdhcftay,whomloue  doth  prcflcto  go? 
//irr.What  louc  could  prcffc  Ljfander,  from  my  fidef 
Ljf,  Lyfanders  Ioue(th3t  would  not  let  him  bide) 
Fairc  Helena :  who  more  engiids  the  nighc 
Then  all  yon  fiery  oes,  and  eyes  of  light. 
Why  fcek'fl  thou  mcfCould  not  this  make  thee  know. 
The  hate  I  bare  thee,  made  race  leauc  thee  fof 
Her,  You  fpcake  not  as  you  thinkc :  It  cannot  bee. 
HeL  Lo :  (he  is  one  of  this  confederacy. 
Now  Iperceiue^thcy  haue  conioynd  all  three. 
To  fafliion  this  falfe  fporr,  in  (pight  of  mee* 
Injurious  i/<?ri»w,  moft  vngratefull  maide, 
Haue  you  confpir*d,haue  you  with  thefe  contriu  d  , 
To  baite  mec,wiih  thisfoule  dcrifionf 
Is  all  the  counfell  that  we  two  haue  (har'dj 
The  fiflers  vowes,the  bowers  that  we  haue  fpent. 
When  we  haue  chid  the  hartie  footed dmc^ 
for  parting  vs;  O ,  is  all  forgot? 
aU  fchooldaics  frienci(hippe,chiIdhood  innocence? 
Wee,  Hermia^  like  two  artificial)  gods. 


AMidfommer  nightes  dreame. 

Haue  with  our  needles,  created  both  one  flower. 
Both  on  one  fampler,  fitting  on  one  cufhion. 
Both  waibling  of  one  fong,  both  in  one  key; 
AS  if  our  hands,our  fides,  voyces,and  mindcs 
Had  bin  incorporate.  So  wee  grcwe  together. 
Like  to  a  double  cherry,  fecming  parted; 
But  yet  an  vnion  in  partition, 
Twolouely  berries  moulded  on  one  flemme: 
So  with  two  Teeming  bod  ies,but  one  heart. 

Two  of  the  firft  life  coats  in  heraldry. 
Due  but  to  one,and  crowned  with  one  creaft* 
And  will  you  rent  our  auncient  loue  afunder, 
Toioyne  with  men,  in  fecming  your  poorc  friend? 

Jtisnotfriendly^tisnot  maidenly. 

Ourrex,aswcllasIj  may  chide  you  for  it; 

Though  1  alone  doe  fclc  the  iniury. 
Her  A  am  amazed  at  your  words: 

J  fcorneyou  not^ltfcemes  that  you  fcorne  mce, 
//>AKaue  you  not  Ctt L^famUr jZsin  fcorne^ 

To  follow  mee,  and  praile  my  eyes  and  face? 

And  made  your  other  loue,  Demetriw 

(Who  euen  but  now  did  fpurne  mee  with  his  foote) 

To  call  mee  goddene,nymph,diuinc,andrare, 

Pretious  celeftlall?  V  Vherefore  fpcakes  he  this, 

To  her  hehatcs?Andwherfore  doth  Lyfander 

Dcnyyourlouef^forich  within  his  foule) 

And  tender  mee(forfooth^afFe^on^ 

Butby  your  fetting  on,by  yourconfent? 

VVhatjthough  1  be  not  io  in  grace  as  you, 

Sohung  vpon  with  loue,(b  fortunate^ 

(Butmiferable  moft,  to  loue  vnlou'd ) 

This  you  ftiould  pittie^raiher  then  dcfpife. 
Her,  I  vnderftand  not  ,whatyou  mcane  by  this, 
HeLliot.  Pcrrcucr,counterfait  fad  lookes: 

Make  mouthesvponmee,whenlturncmy  back: 

Winke 


Ill.ii 


239 


243 


247 


AMidrommernightes  dreame. 

Winke  each  at  other,  fioldeihc  fwcccte  ieaft  vp^ 
This  (port  well  carried, /hall  bee  chronicled. 
If  you  haue  any  pitty,grace,or  manners. 
You  would  not  make  mecfuch  an  argument. 
But  fare  ye  well ;  lis  partly  my  ownc  fault: 
Which  death^orabfcnce  fooncfhall  remedy. 

Lyf ,Stsy  ^gentle  Hele»a :  hcare  my  excule, 
My  loue^my  life,  my  foule,  faire  HeUna, 

H^/.O  excellent/ 

Herm^  Swcetc,  doe  not  fcornc  her  fo* 
'Dem.  If  flie  cannot  entreaty  1  can  compcll. 

i^/yTThoucanft  compcll  no  more,  then  (he  intreat. 
Thy  ihreatshaue  no  more  ftrength  then  her  weakc  praifc.  251 
^kn^liout  thee^  by  my  life  I  doe: 
1  fweare  by  that  which  I  will  loofe  for  thee; 
To  prooue him  falfe,that  faiesi  louc  thee  not . 

Dem,  I  fay,T  loue  thee  more  then  he  can  do,  255 

hyf*  If  th  ou  fay  fo,  withdrawe,  and  prooue  it  to» 

I>^«?.QuJckcome^ 

Her ^Lj fancier, vi\itttio  tends  all  this? 

L)rf*Av/^Y3yonEthi!op4  259 

!7>m,No,tio  ;heele 
Seeme  to  brcake  loofe :  take  on  as  you  would  follow; 
Bur  yet  come  not«  You  are  a  tame  man^go. 

L/yT  Hangofthoucat,  thou  bur :  vile  thing  let  looft;  263 
Or  I  will  fbakc  thee  from  mee,like  a  ferpcnt. 

Hir.Why  arc  you  grovi^ncfo  rude?  What  change  is  this, 
Sweeteloue.^ 

Lyf,  Thy  louef  Out  tawny  Tartar^  out:  267 
Out  loathed  medcine :  6  hated  potion  hence. 

uer»  Doe  you  not  ieart ? 

H^/,  Ycsfooth  J  andfo  doe  you. 

LyfDemetrius,  I  will  keepe  my  word^with  thee.  27/ 

Dem^  I  would  I  had  your  bond.  For  I  perceiue, 
A  wcake  bond  holds  you,  He  not  truft  your  word* 


A  Midlbmmcrnightes  dreamc. 

Lyf.  Wbat^Hiould  1  hurt  her,  ftrikc  her,  kill  her  dead? 
Although  1  hatehcrjllenorharmehcrfo, 

H^r^  What?  Canyou  do  me  greater  harme,then  hate? 
Hate  mce^  whercforcfO  me ,  what  newes,iny  loue^ 
Am  noli  viermta} hv^not  you Ljftf3derf 
I  am  as  faire  now,  as  I  was  ere  while. 
Since  nighr,youlou'd  mee;  yet  fince  night,  you  left  mee. 
Why  then,you  left  mee  (6  the  gods  forbid) 
Incarneft,nialiirayf 
L^f  I  ,  by  my  life: 

And  neucr  did  defirc  to  fee  thee  more* 
Thefore  be  out  of  hopcj  of  queftion>of  doubt; 
Be  certaine :  nothing  truer :  tis  no  leaft 
That  I  doe  hate  thce^and  loue  aeUm. 

nef.O  mee,you  iugglcr^you  canker  blolibme. 
You  theefc  ofloue  s  what^haue  you  come  by  nightj 
And  ftolne  my  loucs  hearty  from  him? 

Hc/.  Fine,  I  faith. 
Haueyou  no  mode  fly,  no  maiden  fhamc, 
Notouchofbafiifuinefre?  What^will  youteare 
Impatient  anfwcres,from  my  gentle  tongue? 
Fy,fy3  you  counterfaic^  you  puppct^you, 

ner.  Puppet?  Why  fo?  1  y  that  way  goes  the  game^ 
Now  I  percciue  that  flic  hath  made  compare, 
Betweenc  our  flatures,  (he  hath  vrg*d  her  height^ 
And  with  her  perfonagc,  her  tall  perfonage^ 
Her  height('forfooth)  (he  hath  preuaild  with  him» 
And  are  you  gtowne  fo  high  in  his  eftecme, 
Becaufel  am  fo  dwarfifh  and  folowe? 
Howiowe  am  \  ,thou  painted  May-pole?Speake: 
HOW  lowe  am  I  flam  not  yet  fo  lowc^ 
But  that  my  nailescan  reach  vnto  thine  eyes* 
H«?/.  I  pray  you j  though  you  mocke  rae;gentleraanj 
let  her  not  hurt  me^  I  was  neuer  curft: 
I  hauc  no  gift  at  allin  flirewiflinefre; 

E4  / 


4  A  i«AAW»XWAAAt&iVft  «IAgAAWW9  UiCclUiC* 

I  am  a  right  tnald/or  my  cowatdize: 
Let  her  not  ftrike  mee.You  perhaps.may  thinke, 
Bccaufe  fhe  is  fomething  lower  then  my  fclfe^ 
That  lean  match  her. 

ifmLowerf  harke  againe. 

Hel.  Good  Hermia,AQ  not  be  fo  bitter  with  mee, 
I  cuermoredidloueyou//l?rww. 
Did  euerkcepcyourcounfels^ncucrwrongd  you; 
Saue  th  at  in  loue y  vnto  Demetrius ^ 
I  tould  him  of  your  flealth  vnto  this  wood. 
He  followed  you :  for  loue,  I  followed  him. 
But  he  hath  chid  me  hence,and  threatned  mee 
To  ftrike  mce,fpurne  mee; nay  to  kill  mee  to» 
And  now/o  you  will  let  me  quier  goe^ 
To  Athens^'AX  1  beare  my  folly  backe. 
And  follow  you  no  further.  Let  me  goe« 
You  fee  how  fimple^and  how  fond  I  am, 

Herm,Whyf  get  you  gon.  Who  ift  that  hinders  youi 

Hel^  A  fbolifli  heart^ihat  1  leaue  here  behindi 

Her,  What,  with  Lyfander? 

Hel}JVilh  Demetrius, 

Lyf.Bc  notafraid:ftie fhall not harme thee Hehm^ 
Deme.lio  fir :  (he  fhallnot,  though  you  take  her  pa 
HeL  Oj  when  flie  is  angry^flicis  keene  and  Hircwd, 

She  was  a7ixen,when  (he  went  tofchoolc : 

And  though  flie  be  butlittle,  ffie  is  fierce. 

Her,  Little  againefNothing  hut  low  and  littlef 

Why  will  you  fuflfer  her  to  floute  me  thus? 

Let  me  come  to  her. 
Lyf  Gctyou  gon,  you  dwarfe; 

You  OT/www^ofhindring  knot  grafTe^made; 

You  bead,  you  acome. 
Deme^You  are  too  officious. 


Take 


m.ii 


A  Midfommertiiglitcs  dreame. 

Takcnot  herpart .  For ifihou  doflimctid 
Ncuerfo  little  fhcwcofloue  to  her, 
Thouflialcabyk* 

L;/*  Now  (h e  holde s  me  not: 
Now  follow^  if  thou  d  ar'ft,co  try  whofe  right, 
Ofthine  or  mine^is  moft  in  Hehft/f* 

Deme,  Follow? N3y:lle  go  with  thee,  checkc  by  iowlet 

H^r.  You,  miftrcffc,aU  this  coylc  islongofyou* 
Nay:goenotbackc. 

Hf  A 1  will  not  truft  you,I, 
Nor  longer  ftay  in  your  curd  company* 
Your  hands,than  mine,are  quicker  for  a  fray: 
My  leggcs  are  longer  though,to  runnc  away. 

Her^  I  am  amaz'd,  and  know  not  what  to  fay  «^  Exeunt^ 
Oh^  Thisis  thy  negligence;  ftillthou  miftak^ft, 
Orelfecommitdthy  knaueries  wilfully. 

Tuck:  Beleeue  raee,king  of  fhado  wes,  T  miftookc. 
Did  not  you  tell  meej!  fhoud  know  thcman. 
By  the  Athenian g2Lm^iV[S^  he  had  on.^ 
And/o  farr  eblamelefle  prooues  my  cnterprifc. 
That  I  hauc  nointed  an  C/itheniam  eyes: 
And  fo  farrc  am  I  gl ad^  itfo did  fort > 
As  this  their  iangline  X  cftcemc  a  C^tt* 

Ob^  Thou  fc eft,  thefc  loucrs  feekc  a  place  tofight^ 
Hy  therefore  Robin,  ouercaft  the  nightj 
The  ftarry  welkin  coucr  thou  anon. 
With  drooping  foggc  asblackc  as  Acheron;^ 
Andleadthefe  teafty  Riualsfo  aftray. 
As  one  come  not  within  anotlicrs  way, 
Liketo  Lyfandevt  fometimc  frame  thy  tongue: 
Then  ftirre  DemetriH4\^,mi\\  bitter  wrong; 
And  fometimc  raile  thou  like  Demetrinsi 
Andfrom  each  other,lookc  thou  lead  them  thus; 
Till  ore  their  browes,death.countcrfaiting,flccpc, 
With  leaden  lees,and  Batty  ^vings  doth  crccpc: 

F  Then 


A  Midironimer  nightcs  drcame, 

Then  crufli  this  hearbe  into  LyfaMders  eye; 
Whofe  liquor  hath  this  vertuous  property, 
To  take  from  thence  all  crrour,with  his  might, 
And  make  his  eycbalsroulc  with  wonted  fight. 
When  they  next  wake,  all  this  derifion 
Shallfeeme  a  drcame,and  fruitelcfle  vifion, 
Andbackc  to  Athens fh2L\\  the  louers  wend. 
With  Icaguc^whofe  datc,till  death  Hiall  neucr  end^ 
Whiles  I,  in  this  affairc,doe  thee  imploy, 
He  to  my  Queene  and  beg  htt Indian  boy: 
And  then  I  will  her  charmed  eye  rcleafe 
From  monflers  viewe^and  all  things  fhall  be  peace, 

Pf4ck^  MyFaieryLord^thismuft  be  done  with  haflc- 
Fornightsfwift  Dragons  cut  the  cloudsfuU  hCt, 
And  vender  fhincs  ^^mvij  harbinger : 
Atwhofeapproach,Ghofts  ,  wandringhere  and  there, 
Troope  home  to  Churchyardsrdamncd  fpirits  all; 
Thatln  croflc  waies  and  floods  haueburiall^ 
Already  to  their  wormy  beds  are  gone: 
Forfeareleaft  day  fliould  looke  their  (hamesvpon, 
Thev  wilfully  themfelues  exile  from  light. 
And  muft  for  aye  confort  with  black  browed  night, 

OOer.  But  we  are  (pirits  of  another  fort^ 
I,  with  the  mornings  loue,  haueoftmadcfport, 
Andlikea  forreftcr^thcgroues  may  tread 
Euen  till  the  Eafternegate  all  fiery  red. 
Opening  on  Neftutte^  with  faire  blcfled  beamcs, 
Tumcsjinto  yellow  golde^his  fait  greene  ftreames^ 
But  notwiftanding,  hafte,  make  no  delay: 
We  may  efFea  this  bufineffe,  yet  ere  day. 

P^.Vp  &  do  wn,vp  &  down,l  will  lead  them  vp  &  down. 
I  amf  card  in  field  &  town.(«?^/f»,lcad  them  vp  &  downe* 
Here  comes  one.  Enter  Lyfandcr. 

LypNhtrt  art  thou^proud  DemetrwjfSptzk  thou  now^ 

Itifp^  Herevillainc^dravvnc &ready. Whereart ihou? 


A  Midfommernigmesdreome. 

Lyf,  I  will  be  with  thee  ftraight, 

Rob*  Follow  me  then  to  plainer  ground* 
Enter  Demetrius. 

Deme.  Lyfandcfi  fpeake  againe. 
Thou  runaway ,  thou  coward ^  art  thou  fled? 
Speake  in  fome  bufh.  Where  doeft  chou  hide  thy  hcadf 
Rottlhou  coward  art  thou  bragging,to  the  ftarres^ 
Telling  the  bufties  that  thou  look'ftfor  warres. 
And  wilt  not  comef  Come  recreant^  come  thou  childe^ 
]le  whippe  thee  with  arodde.Heisdefird^ 
That  drawes  a  fword  on  thee> 

P^*Yea,art  thou  there? 
Ro,  Follow  my  voicerweele  try  no  manhood  here*  ExeUt* 

Ljf,  He  goes  before  me^  and  ftill  dares  me  on; 
When  I  come  whcrchecalles^thenheisgon. 
Thevillaineis  much  lighter  heel'd  then!; 
I  followed  faft ;  but  faft  er  he  did  flyj 
That  fallen  am  I  in  darke  vneauen  way, 
Andhere  will  reft  me»  Come  thou  gentle  day» 
For  if  but  once,  thou  fhe  we  me  thy  gray  light^ 
lie  findc  DemetriuSy^nd  reuenge  this  (pight. 
Robin,  rf«^Demetrius. 

RobL  Ho,ho,ho:Coward,why  comft  thou  not? 

Den^eM'ide  me,if  thou  dar'ft.For  well  I  wot. 
Thou  runft  before  niee,{hifting  cuery  place. 
And  dar*ft  not  ftand,  nor  lookc  me  in  the  facc^ 
Where  art  thou  now.' 

i?*^.  Come  hither.'  lam  here  • 

2)^.Nay  then  thou  mock  ft  me^Thou  fbat  buy  this  dear^ 
If  eucr  I  thy  face  by  day  light  fee* 
Now,  goe  thy  way  .Fain  me  ffc  conftraineth  mee. 
To  meafure^out  my  lengthjon  this  cold  bed: 
By  daics  approach  lookc  to  be  vifited. 

Enter  Helena* 
Ife/e.O  weary  night,  01  ong  and  tedious  night, 

Fz  Abate 


  '    o 

Abate  thy  hourcs^ftiine  comforts,  from  the  eaft; 

That  I  raaybackcto  vif^m^by  day  light, 

From  thcfe  that  my  poorc  company  detcft: 

And  ncepe,thatfometimcsfhutsvp  (brrowcs  eye, 

Stealc  mce  a  while  from  mine  owne  companie.  Sleepe. 

Rok  Yet  butthrecPCome  one  more^ 
Two  of  both  kindes  makes  vp  fewer, 
Hearc  fhce  comes,  curft  and  fadde. 
Cupid  IS  a  knauifli  ladde. 
Thus  to  make  poorc  females  madde^ 

VLer,  Neuer  fo  weary,ncuerfo  in  woe. 
Bedabbled  with  the  deaw,and  tornc  with  briers: 
lean  no  further  era  wic,  no  further  goc: 
My  Icgges  can  keepc  no  pafc  with  my  defircs. 
Here  will  1  reft  mce,  till  the  brcakc  of  day; 
Heaucns  fhicldc  Lypinder^  if  they  meaae  a  fray. 

Roh.  On  the  ground^fleepe  found: 
lie  apply  your  eye,  gentle  louer,  remedy. 
When  thou  wak'ft,  thou  tak'fl: 
True  delight,  in  the  fight,  of  thy  former  ladies  eye: 
And  the  country  prouerbe  knowne^ 
That  euery  man  ftiouldtake  his  owne. 
In  your  waking  (hall  be  flio  wen, 
Jacke  (Iiall  hau  e  lilli  nought  fhall  goe  ill: 
The  man  (hall  haue  his  mare again,&  all  (hall  be  well. 
Enter  Queen e  of  Faieries,  and  Clorvne^and  Faieries; W 
the  king  hehindethentj. 

7//^<i.  Come  fit  thee  downevpon  this  dowry  bed. 
While  1  thy  amiable  cheekcs  doecoy> 
And  ftick  musk  rofes  in  thy  fleekefmoothhcad. 
And  ki(re  diy  faire  large  carcs^my  gentle  ioy^ 

C/<?»w.Where's  Peafe^bhjjomef 

^<?/i.Ready, 

C^w'.ScratchiTiyheade,7'<'w/i.^/<)»^/i/^>.Whcr'5Moun' 
CKWiCotwehi  Cc?l^,Rcady, 


do,  Mounfieur  CoM.^ood  Mounfieur^gctyou  you. 
weapons  in  your  h and.  and  kill  me  a  red  hipt  Humble  Bee, 
on  the  coppc  of  a  ihiftle :  and  good  Mounfieur,  bring  mec 
the  honybagge.  Doc  notfretyourfelfc  too  much,  in  the 
aaion,  Mounfieur :  and  good  Mounficurhauc  a  care,  the 
hony bagae  breake  not ,  I  wold  be  loath  to  haue  you  oucr- 
flowcn  wiih  a  honibag  fgnior,  Where's  Mounfieur  M^f' 
tardfeedet 

CMufi.  Rcadic,  ,^  j  « 

^/ff.Giuc  mcyourncafe^Mounueur  MHflardfcfde.VtVf 
you,Ieaucyourcurtfie,good  Mounfieur, 
c^«/,what'syourwill?  ,  ,    ^  , 

Clo.  Nothing  good  Mounfieur, but  to  helpcCaualery 
Cohxfebbey  tofcratch,  I  muft  to  the  Barbers  ,  Mounfieur, 
For  me  thinkcs  I  am  maruailes  hairy  about  the  fac  e,  Andl 
amfuchatender  Aflc,  ifmy  hairedoebut  tickle noicc, I 
muftfcratch. 

77f^.  What,  wilt  thou  hearcfomcmufique,  my  iwcctc 
louc? 

Clo.  I  haue  areafonable  good  care  in  mufique .  Lets 

haue  the  tongs,  and  the  bones. 

7)f  4.  Or,  fav  fwectcloue,  what  rfiou  dcfirea  I  o  catc. 

Clo  Truclya'peckeofprouandcr.I  could  mounch  your 
cooddry  Oatcs.Me thinkcs,!  haue  a  great  dcfire  toabot, 
tie  of  hay.  Good  hay,  fwectc  hay  hath  no  fellow,  (hoord, 

7>.  1  haue  a  venturous  Fairy,  that  fhali  feelce  the  Squinls 
Andfctch  thee  ne  we  nuts.  .  r 

Clo,  1  had  rather  haue  a  handful!^  or  two  of  dryed  pealc. 
But,l  pray you.let none ofyour people ftirie  me:lhaucan 
cxpofuion  of  ilccpc  come  vpon  mee, 

7>M.  Sleepe  thou,  and  I  will  winde  thee  m  my  armcs, 
F  aicries  be  gon,  and  be  alwaics  away. 
So  doth  the  woodbine,  the  fwectc  Honifucklc, 
Gently  cntwift:the  female  luyfo 
Eniings  the  barky  fingers  of  the  Elmc, 


\j  now  J  louc  thcej  how  I  dote  on  thcc/ 
£»rfr  Robin  goodfcllow* 
Oh.  Welcome  good  2^^w^Seeft  thou  this  fweeie  fight 
Her  dotage  now  I  doe  beginnc  to  pittie. 
For  meeting  her  ofIate,bchindethc  wood. 
Seeking  fwecte  fauours  for  this  hatefull  foole^ 
I  did  vpbraid  her,  and  fall  out  with  her* 
For  (he  his  hairy  temples  then  had  rounded^ 
With  coronet  offre/h  and  fragrant  flowers. 
And  that  fame  dea  wc  which  fometime  on  the  buddc$> 
Was  wont  to  fwell,  like  round  and  orient  pearlcs; 
Stood  now  within  the  pretty  flouriets  eyes. 
Like  teares,that  did  their  owne  difgrace  bewailc. 
Whenl  had,  at  my  pleafure,tauntcd  her, 
A  nd  fhe,  in  milde  te  armes,begd  my  patience, 
I  then  did  aske  of  her,  her  changeling  childe: 
Which  flraightflie  gauc  mce,and  her  Fairy  fenC 
To  bcare  him,  to  my  bower,  in  Fairie  lancL 
And  now  I  haue  th  e  boy,  I  will  vndoc 
This  hatefull  imperf e(5lion  of  he  r  cy  es. 
And,  gentle  Pfic^,  take  this  transformed  fcaipe. 
From  of  thcheadc  of  this  Atheman  fwaine; 
That  hee,awaking  when  the  other  do. 
May  all  to  Athens  backe  againe  repaire, 
Andthinkeno  more  of  this  nights  accidents^ 
But  as  the  fearcc  vexation  of  a  dreame* 
But  firft  I  will  rcleafe  thcfiiry  Qijeenc, 

Be,as  thou  waft  wont  to  beet 

See,  as  thou  waft  wont  to  fee. 

Dt4m  budde,  or  Cjir;>/^/ flower. 

Hath  fuch  force,and  bicflcd  power* 
Now,my  Titansa^  wake  you  ,my  fwecte  Qiieene. 

Tita^  My  0^^r<?«,what  vifions  haue  I  feene/ 
Me  thought  Iwasenamourdofan  Aflet 
O^.Thcrc  lyes  your  louc. 


A  Midfbmmernightes  dreamCt 

Tita.How  came  thcfc  things  to  parte? 
O,  how  mine  eyes  doe  loath  his  vifagc  now/ 

OK  Silence  a  while. ^o^w,  take  ott  this  head: 
Titan  'ta ,  muficke  call,  and  ftrike  more  dead 
Then  common  flccpe :  of  all  thefe,  fine  the  fenfc. 
T/.  Mufick^howe  muficktfuch  a$charmcthfleepe/pccpc, 

Rob^  Now,  when  thou  wak'R,  with  thine  ownfools  eyes 

O^.Sound  Mufick!Come,my  queen,take  hands  with  me» 
And  rocke  the  ground  whereon  thefc  Oeepers  be. 
No  w,thou  and  I  arc  newjin  amltie, 
And  will  to  morrow  midnight,  folemnely 
Pauncc,  inDuke  Thefefuhoufc  triumphantly^ 
And  blcffc  it  to  all  faire  profperitic* 
There  ihall  the  paires  of  faithful!  iouers  be 
Wedded,  with  ThefetUy^A  in  iollitie*  " ' 

Rob,  Fairy  King,attend,  and  marke: 
I  do  heare  the  morning  Larke. 

O^^Then  my  Queene,in  filcnce  fad^ 
Trippc  we  after  nights  ftiade: 
We,  theGlobc,can  compaflc  foone^ 
Swifter  then  the  wandring  Moone. 

T/M,Come  my  Lord,and  in  our  flight. 
Tell  me  how  it  came  this  night. 
That  I  flceping  here  was  found. 

With  thcfe  mortals  on  the  ground^  Exeunt^ 
EnterThckusafjdaH  his  traine^  VP^wde  borne, 

rhe^Goc  oneofyou,finde  out  thcforrellcr: 
For  now  our  obfcruation  is  performde. 
And  fince  we  haue  the  vaward  ofthe  day. 
My  louc  fliali  heare  the  muficke  of  my  hounds^ 
Vncouplc^in  the  weftcrnc  valliejet  them  goe: 
Difpatchl  fay,  and  findetheforrefter, 
Wee  will/aire  Queene,vp  to  the  mountaincs  toppe^ 
And  marke  the  muficall  confufion 
Ofhounds  andEchoin  coimind^ioQ. 

P4  Mffoii, 


A  Midfommer  nightcs  drcame* 

HfpA  was  with  Hennics  and  Cadrntis^  oncc^ 
When  in  a  wood  ofCrcete  they  bayed  the  Bcarc, 
With  hounds  of  Sparta :  ncucr  did  1  hcarc 
Such  gallant  chiding.  For  befidcs  the  groucs. 
The  skycs,thc  fountaincs^euery  region  neaic 
SeemealionciDutuail  ciy«I  neuer  heard 
So  muHcall  a  dtfcord^  ruchfweecethunder* 

7'A</,My  hounds  are  bred  out  of  the  Spartane  kindc: 
So  flcw'd,  Co  fandcd.'  and  their  heads  are  hung 
V  Vith  carcs^that  fwcepe  away  the  morning  deawc^ 
Crookc  knecdj  and deawlapi^like Thejfaliaft  Buls: 
Slowe  in  purfuit;  but  matchtin  mouth  like  bcls^ 
Bach  vnder  each.  A  cry  more  tunable 
Was  neuer  hollowd  to^nor  chcerd  with  home, 
InCreeu^'mSfarta^tiOt  inTheJfafy. 
ludgc  when  you  hcare^  But  fo^What  ny raphes  are  thcfc? 

E^^.My  Lord^this  my  daughter  heccc  a  flcepe. 
And  this  Lyfiifulery  this  DemetriMts, 
This  Helena^  old  Nedars  Helena. 
I  wonder  of  their  being  here  together^ 

TTf^.No  doubt,they  rofevp  carcly^toobferuc 
The  right  of  May :  and  hearing  our  intent^ 
Came  hecre,m  grace  of  our  fblcmniiie. 
But  fpcakc,  Egeusy  is  not  this  the  dav, 
Thet  Hermia  fliould  giue  anfwer  of  her  choy  cc? 

Bgeus^  It  is,  my  Lord.  (liomcs, 

^hefe.  Goe,  bid  the  hunrfmen  wake  them  with  their 
Shome  within :  they  aUflart  vp,  ffmde  homes, 

T&^*  Good  morrow,  fi:iends.5aintfV(?;/fwispaft- 
Begin  thefe  woodbirdsbut  to  couple,now.^ 

^^'/^Pardon,  ray  Lord« 

The.  I  pray  you  all,  ftand  vp. 
fkno  w,you  two  are  Riuali  enemies* 
How  comes  this  gentle  concordin  the  woflde. 
That  hatted  isfoFarrerromiealou(ie» 

To 


To  fleepe  by  hate,  andfeareno  cnoiitie^ 
LyfMy  Lord,I  iliaircply  amazcdly, 

Halfe  flecpc,  halfe  waking.But,as  ycc.I  fwcarc, 

Icaimottruclyfayhowlcame  hcrc^ 

But  as  I  thinkc  (forirucly  would  1  fpeake) 

And  now  I  doc  bechinke  mcc/o  it  is; 

I  came  with  H^rmia^hithtt^Out  intent 

Was  to  be  gon  ftrom  /ifhens:vfhctc  we  might 

Without  the  pcrill  of  the  tAthenian  lawc^ 
E^e^  Enough,cnough  my  Lord :  you  hauc  enough, 

I  bcggc  the  la w,the  law,  vpon  his  head: 

They  would  haueftolneaway^they  wouldj  Demetrius^ 

Thereby  to  haue  defeated  you  and  me: 

You  of  your  wife,and  mce,  of  my  confcnt: 

Of  my  con(ent  >that  fhc  fiiould  be  your  wife. 

Deme.  My  Lord  jfairc  Helen  told  mc  of  their  ftealth, 
Of  this  thcit  purpofchither,  to  this  woodj 
And  linfuryhitherfollowcdthcm; 
Fairc  He/eMfXn  fancy  following  mcc 
But  my  good  Lord^I  wotenot  by  what  power 
(But  by  fomc  powerit  is^my  loue, 
ToHermiafmeitcdzs  theibowe^ 
Secmes  to  nic  nowas  the  remembrance  of  an  idle  gaude^ 
Which  in  my  childehoode  I  did  dote  vpon: 
And  all  thefaith,the  vcrtuc  of  my  heart. 
The  obie^  and  the  pleafure  of  mine  eye, 
1$  ontly  viclefta»To  hcr^my  Lord, 
Was  I  betrothed,  ere  I  ice  Her mia: 
But,likeaficknefle,didlloaththi$foodc. 
Buc,as  in  health>come  to  my  naturall  izRc^ 
Nowl  doe  wifli  it,loue  it^long  for  it. 
And  will  for  euermore  be  true  to  it. 

ne»  Faire  Iouers,y  ou  are  fortunately  met^ 
Of diis  difcourfc^wc  more  wili  here  anon. 


.  .  ....  *...4V1  Uigwuvu  ^*v*E*-v. 

2geuyy  I  will  oucrbearc  your  will: 

For  in  the  Temple,  by  and  by,  with  vs, 

Thcfc  couples  fhall  eternally  be  knit. 

And,  for  the  morning  now  is  fomthinjg  wome. 

Our  purpoPd  hunting  (hall  be  fet  alide. 

Away , with  vs^to  ^f^w. Three  and  three, 

Weeleholde  a  feaft,in  great  folcmnitic.  Come  Hyppolitd. 

Deme^  Thefc  thin  gs  fee  me  fmall  and  yndiHinguifhable, 
Likefarre  ofTniountaines  turned  into  clouds, 

HerM^  thinks  J  fee  thefe  th ings,  with  parted  eycj 
Wheneueiy  thing  fcemes  doubly 

So  mcethinkes: 
And  I  hauc  fontid  Demetritis^l^t  a  Icwcil^ 
Mine  owne,and  not  mine  ownc* 

Dem,  Areyoufure 
That  we  arc  awakc/It  fcemes  to  me. 
That  yet  we  flecpe,  we  drcame  Do  notyouthinke. 
The  Duke  was  here,  and  bid  vs  foUowhim/ 

-Wfn  Yea,  and  my  father. 

MeL  And  HyffoUta^ 

JL;/'Andhe  did  bid  vs  follow  to  the  Temple, 
I><?w.Whythcn,weareawakc:lets  folio  whim,  and  by 
the  way  lets  recount  our  drcaroes, 

C/d.WhcnmycuccomeSjCall  mee,andl  will  anfwerc^ 
My  next  is,  moft  faire  "Pyramm^  Hey  ho,  l^eeter  Quwcef 
i%tff,thcbeIlowesmender55w^/  the  tinker?  Starudmf 
Gods  mylife/Stolnehence,and  left  meea  fleepcflhauc 
had  amoftrarevifion.  Ihauehada  dreame^paftthc  wit 
ofman,  to  fay;  what  drcame  it  was.Man  is  but  anAflc,  if 
bee  goe  about  expound  this  dreame.  Mc  thought  I  was, 
thereis  no  man  can  tell  what.  Me  thought  J  was ,  and  mc 
tboughtrhad.  But  manis  but  paichtafoole.  If  heewill 
offer  to  fay,  what  mee  thought  I  had.  Thecye  of  man 
hath  not  heard,  the  care  of  man  bath  notJecnc,  mans 

hand 


A  Midiommermgiuesuicciiiic. 

hand  is  nocablciotaftc,  his  tongue  to  conceiue,  nor  his 
heartc  to  report,  what  my  dreamc  was,  I  will  get  P<r- 
terQtiince  lo  write  a  Ballet  of  this  dreamc  :  it  (hall  be 
caird  'Bottoms  l>teame\ bccaufe  it  hath  no  bottome :  and 
I  will  fingit  in  the  latlercndofaPlay^beforc  the  Duke, 
Peraduemurc,tomak€itihemoregratious3 1  (hall  fing 
it  at  her  deaths 

Bnter  Quince,  Flute,  IVx^y  andtherMh^ 
Quiff.  Haue  you  fcnt  to  Bottoms  houfe?  Ishe  come 
homely  ct? 

Flup^  Hcc  cannotbc  heard  of.  Out  ofdoubtheistranf- 
portcd» 

Thyf.  If  heccomenot,thenthcPlayismard.  It  goes 
not  forward.Dothit? 

Qffifj,  It  is  not  pofliblc.  You  haue  not  a  man^in  all  ^- 
the?ff yM^io  difchargc  PytAmuf, buthe. 

thjf.  No,  hcehath  fimplythebcft  wit  of  any  handy* 
craft  man,  in  ^/W.  ,  ,  . 

Q^n.  Yea,  and  the  bcft  pcrtonto,  and  heeis  a  very 
Paramour, for  a  fwcetc  voice. 

Thif,  Youmuftfay,  Paragon.  A  Paramour  is  f  God 
bleffc  vs)a  thing  of  nought, 

Enter%m%ytheIoyntu 

Snug^  Matters,  the  Duke  is  comming  from  the  Tem- 
ple, and  there  is  two  or  three  Lords  and  Ladies  more 
married.  If  our  fport  had  gon  forward,  wee  had  all 
beenc  made  men, 

T^hyf,  O  fwcctc  bully  Bottome,  Thus  hath  hcc  loft  fix 
pence aday,during  his  life: hcc  couldcnot  haue  fcaped 
fixe  pence  a  day .  Andthc  Duke  had  not  giuen  himfix 
pence  a  day,  for  playing  l^yramftt ,  lie  be  hanged. 
He  would  haue  dcfcrucd  it.Sixpcnceaday^inP/^'tfww^ 
G2  or 


or  nothing, 

^/r^rr  Bottom. 
Bot,  Where  arc  thcfe  lads?  Where  are  thcfc  harts? 
Quiff,  "Boftom.b  moG:  couragious  day/O  nioft happy 

&>//,MaftcrsJ  am  todifcourfc  wonders :  but  askc  me 
not  what .  For  if  I  tell  you,l  am  not  true  j^thettiaH.  I  will 
tell  you  eucry  thing  right  as  it  fell  out. 

Qjfin,  Let  vshearc,Kvecte.9tf/ww* 

-S<?NNot  a  word  of  mee.  All  that  I  will  tell  you,is ,  that 
the  Duke  hath  dined.  Get  your  apparrcll  together  ,  good 
firings  to  yourbeardcs,  new  ribands  to  yourpumpes, 
meetc  prefeotly  at  the  palace,euery  manlooke  ore  his  part' 
For,thefhort  and  the  long  is,oijrpIay  is  prcferd.  In  any 
cafe  let  Th't[hj/  haue  cicane  linnen :  and  let  not  him  ,that 
plaics  the  Lyon,  pare  bisnailes:  for  they  (hali  hang  out 
for  the  Lyons  clawcs.  And  moft  dcare  Actors,  eate  no  0-» 
nions,  norgarlicke.'forwe  are  to  vtterfwcetc breath :  and 
Ido  not  doubt  but  to  hear  them  fay^it  is  a  fwcctc  Comedy. 
No  more  wordes*Away,goaway. 

Ew/frThcfeus^  Hyppolita,  WPhiloftrate, 

H/;>,  Tis  ftrange,niy  Thefcus^ihzi  thcfe  louers  fpcakc  of* 

T^r.More  ftraungethentrue^  Ineucr  maybeleeue 
Thcfe  aiitiquefables^nor  thcfe  Fait)-  toyes» 
Louers^and  mad  men  haucfuch  fcething  braines^ 
Such  fhaping  phantaftcs,that  apprehend  more. 
Then  coolc  reafon  cuer  comprehends*Tbc  Iunaticfc> 
The  louer,  and  the  Poet  arc  of  imagination  all  compa(fl» 
One  fees  more  diuels,thcn  vaft  hell  can  holder 
That  is  the  mad  man^  Thelouer^ali  as  frantick. 
Sees  Helen t  beauty  in  a  browofe/!£g'^pr* 
The  Poets  cye,in  a  fine  frenzy, rolling,doth  glance 
From  heauen  to  earth/rom  earth  to  hcauen.  And  as 
Imagination  bodies  forth  the  form  cs  of  things 

Vn« 


A  Midiommcrnigiicci'  uicaiuc. 

Vnknownc :  the  Poets  pcnncturncs  ihcm  to  ftapes. 
And  eiucsto  aycry  nothing,  a  locall  habitation, 
Andanamc.Suchirickeshathl^rongimaginaiion, 
That  ifit  would  but  apprehend  fome  ioy. 
It  comprehends  fome  bringcr  ofthat  ioy. 
Orintlicnightjimaginingfomc  feare, 
Howeafic  is  abu(h  fuppofMaBcare? 

Bureau  the  ft  ory  of  the  night  told  ouer. 
And  all  their  minds  transfigured  fo  together. 
More  wit^icfTeth  than  fancies  images. 
And  growesto  fomething  of  great  conftancy: 
Buthowfoeuer,ftrangcandadmirablc,  ^ 
Enter  Loners ;  Ly  fander  ,Demetrius^ermia  4ffd 
Helena. 

rhe.  Here  come  the  loucrs,  full  of  ioy  andmirth. 
loy^gentlefiiendsjioy  and  frcfh  dales 
Of  loue  accompany  your  hearty. 

LyfUoTC  then  to vs,  waitc  in  your  royall  walkesj  your 

boordcyourbcdde.  a.^n^"^' 
T/&^,Comenow!whatniaskcs^  what  dauncesihaJl  wee 
To  weareaway  this  long  age  of  three  hours,betwcenc 
Or  after  fuppcr,  &  bed-time/  Wh ere  isour  vfuall  manager 
OfmirthfWhatRcuelsareinhandr^Ischerenoplay, 
To  eafe  the  anguifh  ofa  corcuring  howcrf  Call  PhihJIrau. 

Ti&^Say,wh3tabridgcmenthaue  youtorthis  cucningf 
What  maske,what  muficke?  how  fhail  we  beguile 
The  lazy  tymejif not  with  fomcdelight? 

Phi/oft^  There  is  abriefe,how  many  fports  are  ripe^ 
Make  choycc,ofwhich  your  Highneffe  will  fee  firft. 

T/&f  .The  battell  with  the  ctntanresio  be  fung. 
By  an  Athenim  Eunuchc,  to  the  Harpe? 
Week  noneof  that Jhat  hauc  Icolde  my  louc. 
In  glory  of  my  kinfman  HermUs^ 
The  ryot  of  the  tipfic  Bachands^ 


Tearing  the TiErr4f/<i»  finger,  Jn  their  rage? 
That  is  an  olde  dcuifc :  and  rt  was  plaid. 
When  I  from  Thebes  came  Jaft  a  conquercn 
The  thrifc  three  Mufes,  mourning  for  the  death 
Oflcarning^Iatcdeceaft^in  bcggery? 
That  is  Tome  SatirektCM  and  cricicall, 
Notforiing  with  a  nuptiall  ceremony. 
A  tedious  briefe  Scene  o(youn^Tjramfif 
And  his  louc  rhi/hj^i  very  tragicall  mirth  ? 
Mcrry,andtr3gicall?Tedious,and  bricfef  Thatishot  Ife, 
And  wodrous  Orange  fnow.How  ihall  we  find  the  cocord 
Of  this  difcord? 

Philojt^  A  Play  there  is,my  Lord,  feme  ten  words  longj 
Which  is  asbriefe^as  I  haueknowne  a  play; 
Butjby  ten  words^my  Lord  it  is  too  Jong: 
Which  makesit  tedious*  For  in  all  the  Play, 
There  is  not  one  word  apt,  one  player  fi  itcd» 
And  tragicall,  my  noble  Lord^it  is. For  Pyramus^ 
Therein,  doth  kill  himfclfe.  Which  when  I  faw 
Rehearft^I  muft  confcfle,  made  mine  eyes  water; 
But  more  merry  tcares  the  paflion  of  loud  laughter 
Ncuer  flicd^ 

7he\e^  What  are  they^that  doc  play  it? 

VhiU  Hard  handed  mcn^that  worke  in  Athent  here^ 
Which  neucrlabour'd  in  their  minds  till  now: 
And  now  haue  toyled  theirvnbreathed  memorieti 
With  thisfame  Play^againf)  your  nuptiallt 

T^^.  And  wee  will  hcare  it. 

^hu  No,my  noble  Lord,it  is  not  for  you.  I  haue  heard 
Itouer,andit  is  nothing,  nothing  in  the  world; 
Vnlefleyou  can  finde^ortin  thcircntcnts, 
Extrcamcly  flrctcht,and  cond  with  cruellpaine^ 
To  do  you  (eruicc. 

T/&^  J  will  heare  thatplay.Forneucr  any  thing 
Can  be  amlffe^when  fimplcneflc  and  ducty  tender  if  ♦ 

Goc 


Goc  bring  them  inland  take  your  places^Ladics. 

I  loue  not  to  fee  wrctchedncflc  orccharged; 
Andducty^mhisfcruicc^pcrifhing. 

T/&<f.Why,gcntle  fwcctc,you  fhall  fee  no  fuch  thing. 

HipMc  fayes^  they  can  doc  nothing  in  thiskindc. 

The,  The  kinder  we,togiuc  them  thanks,  for  nothing. 
Our  fport  flhall  be,io  take  wh  a  t  they  mift  ake. 
And  what  poorc  duty  cannot  doe,  noble  rcfpcft 
Takes  it  in  might,  not  merit. 
Where  I  haue  come,  great  Cierkes  haue  purpofed 
To  grectc  me,  with  premeditated  welcomes; 
Where  ihauc  fcene  them  fliiuerand  iooke  pale, 
Make  periods  in  the  raidft  of  fcntcnccs. 
Throttle  their  prad^iz'd  accent  in  their  feares. 
And  in  conclufion  dumbly  haue  broke  ofl; 
Not  paying  mcc  a  welcome.  Truft  mc,  fwcctc. 
Out  ofthis  filence^yet,  I  pickt  a  welcome: 
And  in  the  modcfty  of  fearefull  duty, 
I  read  as  mueh^  as  fro  m  the  rattling  tongue 
Of  faucyand  audacious  eloquence « 
Loue,  tnereforc,and  tong-iide  fimplicity. 
In  Icafl,  fpcake  moft,to  my  capacity* 

Thihfl.  So  pleafe  your  Grace,  the  Prologue  is  addrcft, 

Duki^J^t  him  approach* 

Enter  the  Prologue^ 

Pr».  If  wee  ofFend^it  is  with  our  good  wHU 
That  youfliouldthinke,  we  come  not  to  offend. 
But  with  good  will.  To  Qie  w  our  fimplc  skillj 
That  is  the  tme  beginning  of  our  end, 
Confidcrihen^we  come  but  in  defpight. 
We  doc  not  come,as  minding  to  content  you. 
Our  true  intent  is.  a11  for  your  delight. 
Wee  arc  not  here,  xhatyou  (houldherc  repent  you. 
The  A^ors  arc  at  hand :  and,by  their  fliowe, 
Youfliall  know  all,  that  you  are  like  to  knowe, 

G4  ihe. 


T/;tf.This  fcllovv  doth  not  ft  and  vpon  pointer 
hyf^  He  hath  ridhis  Prologue,  like  a  rough  Colte  :  hcc 
knowcs  not  the  ftoppc,  A  good  moralltnj  I  ord.  It  is  not 
enough  to  fpeakc ;  but  to  Jpcakc  true. 

Indeed  he  hath  plaid  on  this  Prologue,  like  a  child 
on  aRccordcr,afound;  but  not  in  goucrncment. 

ihe^  HIS  fpcach  was  like  a  tangled  Chainc;  nothing  ina- 
paircd,but  all  difordcred.  Whoisncxt? 

£«/^rPyramu5,  andThishy ,/if7d  WalI,<i»^iMoone- 
fliine,WLyon. 

?YologU€.  Gcntlcs,perclianceyou  wonder  at  this  fhow 
Bur,wonder  on,till  truthe  make  all  things  plainc» 
This  man  is  /'^r^wwi /if you  would  knowe: 
This  beautious  Lady  Thfi^y  is  certainc. 
This  man,  with  lymcandroughcaft,dothprcfent 
Wall^that  vile  wall,which  did  thcfelouersfuDder: 
And  through  wals  chinkc,  poore  fouIes,thcy  arc  content 
To  whifper.  At  the  which  ,let  no  man  wonder. 
This  raan,with  iantetne,  doggc,and  bufh  of  thornc, 
Prcfenteth  moone-ftiine.For  ifyou  will  know^ 
By  moone^fhinc  didthcfc  louers  thinke  no  fcorne 
To  mcetc  at  Ninns  tombe,  there,  there  to  wooe# 
This  grisrJy  bcaft (which  Lyon  hight  by  name) 
Th  e  trufty  rhj /^/,  com  m  ing  firft  by  night. 
Did  fcarre  away^or  rather  did  affiright: 
And  as  (he  fled, her  mantle  fiie  did  fall: 
Which  Lyon  vile  with  b/oody  mouth  didflafne. 
Anon  comes  Pjramtu,  fweete  youth^  and  tall. 
And  findes  his  trufty  Thijhycs  mantle  flaine: 
Whcrcar^with  b!ade,with  bloody  blamefull  blade. 
He  braucly  broach t  his boyling  bloody  brcaft. 
And  Thffi/y  tary  ing  in  Mulberry  fliade, 
n]s  dagger  dre  we,  and  dyedL  For  all  the  reft> 
Let  LyoTt,  Moone^Jhine^all^  and  louers  twairic^ 
At  large  difcourfe,whilcbcrc  they  doe  reniainc. 


A  Midfommer  nightes  dreame. 

The.  1  wonder,if  the  Lyon  be  to  fpeake. 

Dm^r, No  wonder,  oiy  Lord.  One  Lyon  may*  when 
many  AflTes  doe. 

Exit  Ly on,Thysby, and  Moonelhine* 

WaU.  In  thisfame  enterlude  it  doih  befall. 
That  I,one  Flute (h^  name)  prefent  a  wall: 
And  fuch  a  wall,  as  I  would  haue  you  thinke 
That  had  in  it  a  aanied  hole  or  cbinkc: 
Through  which  the  louers,P^4«?«j,and  Tbisby, 
Did  whifper  often,  very  fecretly. 
This  iome,  this  roughcaft,and  this  ftone  doth  (howe. 
That  I  am  that  fame  wall :  the  truth  is  fo. 
And  thisthe  cranie  is,  right  andfinifter. 
Through  which  thefearefulllouersareto  whifper. 

7i&^.  Would  you  defirclime  andhaire  to  fpeake  better? 

*Deme.  It  is  the  wittieft  partition,  thateucrl  heard  dif- 
courfe,myLord- 

The.Vjramiis  drawcs  ncare  the  walhiilencc. 

?r.  O  grim  look  night,o  night,with  huefo  blacke, 
O  nlghr,which  euer  art,  when  day  is  not; 

0  nigbi,0  night,  alacke,  alacke,  alacke, 

1  feare  my  Th'tsbyes  ^iovaS^  is  forgot. 
And  thou  6  wall,  6  fwecte,  6  loucly  wall. 

That  ftandftbetwceneher  fathers  ground  and  mine> 
Thouwall,6wal!,0  fweete and louely wall, 
Showe  mee  thy  chinke,  to  blink  through,with  mine  eync, 
Thankcscurtcous  waU./<?/^^rtiieldihee  well,for  this. 
ButwhatfeelfNor^^/y^rdoelfee. 
O  wicked  wall ,  through  whome  I  fee  no  bhlie, 
Curftbethyfloncsjforthusdeceiuingmee^ 
The,  The  wall  mee  thinkes,be!ngfenfible,aiould  curie 

^^Fjr  No,in  truth  Sir,he  fliould  v^ox.Dectmng  met  is 
T/^/^KJ cue  :{he  is toentcrnow,andI  am  tolpy 
Her  throughthewalKYoufliall  feeitwillfatt 


n  miuiuuuucrnigntes  a  reame. 

Patasrtoldyoujyonderftecomcs*  emerrhifhy, 
T^i/;Owall,fuIlortcnhaft  thouheard  mymoncs* 
Forpattmgi7>yraireP/r^»7«f,and  mec. 
My  cherry  lips  haue  often  kiH  thy  flones; 
Thy  ftoncs^withlime  andhayircknicnow  againe, 

Pyra,lkfi  a  voice :  now  will  I  to  the  chinke. 
To  fpy  and  1  can  heare  my  Thifhyes  face,  rhyhy} 
thif.  My  loue  thou  art,  my  louc  I  thinke. 
vy.  Thinke  what  thou  wilt,  I  am  thy  louers  Grace: 
And,  iike  Limander^  am  I trufty  ftill. 
th'tf,  Andl,like  HeUn.m  the  fates  mekill, 
vyra,  NotShafa/zij^to  prccrfUyWSiS  fo  true. 
r^/fAs  ShafalusKo  Proems^  I  to  you. 
Pjrr,  O  kiffe  mce,  through  the  hoJcofthis  vildc  wall- 
TO/, Ikiffc  the waIIeshoIe;nocyourlipsacaJl, 
pyr.  Wilt  thou,  at Arf»w^»/tombe,mcetc  mc  ftraight  way' 
thy,  Tjde  life,  tydc  death,  I  come  without  delay. 
Wj/.  Thus  hauc  I ,  Wall,  my  part  difchargcd  fo; 
A«d,  bang  done,  thus  wall  away  doth  goe. 
^i^W^owis  theMoon  vfcd  betwects  the  twoneighbors. 
JJeme,  Noremedy,my  Lord,when  walsarefo  wilfulLto 
hcarc  without  warning. 

J^fach.  r\m  is  the  fillicft  Huffe^that  euer  I  heard. 
D/^^^.  The  beft,  in  this  kinde^  arc  but  fhadowcs :  and 
the  worft  are  no  wor%  ifiraagination  amend  them. 

t  muft  be  your  imagination,thcn;&  not  theirs, 
/^4^e.jfwe  imagine  no  worfcofrhcm,theo  they  of  the- 

lelucs,theyr»£>ypaneforcxccllcntmcn.Hcrc  come  two 
noble  beafts,  in  a  man  and  a  Lyon. 

£«f^r  Lyon,  ^izriMoonc-lhine. 
Jl^^?'  X^"  Ladics,youf  whofc  gentle  hearts  do  fcarc 
Tncfmanen  monftrousmoufe,  that  crecpcson  floorej 
May  now,perchance,  both  quake  and  tremble  here. 
When  Lyon  rough,  in  wildeft  rage,  doth  roare. 
Then  know  that  1,  as5«//j:  the  loyner  am 


A  Midfommernightesdreame. 

A  Lyon  fcJI,  nor  dfc  no  Lyons  damme, 

For,if  I  fljould^as  Lyon,  come  in  rtrifc. 

Into  this  placcj  'twere  piety  on  my  life, 

A  very  gentle  bcaft,  and  of  a  good  confdcnce. 
Deme.  The  very  beft  at  a  bcaft,my  Lord^that  ere  Ifa  w. 
Ly[.  This  Lyon  Is  a  very  fox,for  his  valour, 
2);/^*  True :  and  a  goofe  for  his  difcretion, 

X)^',NotromyLord.Forhisvalourcannotcarryhisdif-r 
cretion  :and  the  fox  carries  the  goofe. 

Hisdifcrction,Iamfurc,cannotcarryhis  valour. 
For  the  goofe  carries  not  the  fox.  It  is  well ;  Icaue  it  to  his 
difcretion,and  let  vs  liften  to  the  Moone. 
-<^<7ff»ir.Thislanthornedoththehomed  moone  prcfent, 
2><?)»e4HefhouIdhaue  wornc  the  horncsjonnishcad. 

X)«^.Heis  nocrefcent,andhis  homes  are  inuifiblc^withr 
in  the  circumference, 

Afoorte^YWis  lanthorne  doth  the  horned  moone  prcfent. 
My  felfe^thc  manith  Moone,doe  fcemc  to  be, 

Duke/rhis  is  thegreateft  crrourofallchercfl;themaa 
ftould  beput  into  the  lanthorne^Howisit  clfc  the  man  ith 
Moonef 

Dj/w^/^e  dares  not  come  there/or  the  candJe .  For, 
you  fee,  it  is  already  in  fnuffe.  (change, 

^utch,  I  am  aweary  of  this  Moone .  Would  hec  woulde 

Dukf,  It  appearcs,by  his  fmall light  of  difcrction ,  that 
hee  is  in  the  wane  shut  yet  in  curtefic,  in  all  rcafon.wce 
muft  flay  the  time, 

•^7y^««Proceedc,  Moonct 

Moo»,  All  that  I  hauctofay,istotelIyou,  that  the  Ian- 
thorneisthcMoone^Ithemanith  Moone,thisihornebulh 
my  thornc  bufh,  and  this  doggc  my  dogge» 

Dme.  Why/All  thefefhould  be  in  the  lanthorne :  for  all 
ibcle  arc  in  the  Moone,  Butfilcncc :  here  comes  T/^z/^r^ 
£«wThifby, 

TAJhis  is  ould  Nmhs  lumbe.  Where  is  my  lout?Lyon,OK 

^  *  DmctrtM 


AMidibmmer  nightes  drcamc. 

Dem,  Well  roard,  Lyon. 
Dttke^  WeIlrunne,T^/r/4;'» 

Dmchejfe^  ^Wihoxxt  Mooffe,rtu\y,Khc  Mootie  ftiincs, 
with  a  good  grace. 

2>«4»  Well  mouz'd,  Ljio»^ 

D cm.  And  then  came  Pyram^u, 

Z^//*  And  fo  the  Lyon  varii&t. 

£»^frPyramus. 
Pyr  Swecte  Moone^Ithanke  thee/or  thy  funny  beams. 
I  thanke  chee^  Moone^forfhining  now  fo  brighr. 
For  by  thy  grat'ious  golden^  glittering  bcamcs, 
I  tru(t  to  take  of  irueft  yhifby  fight. 
But  ftay :  oTpight/  but  marke,poore  knight. 
What  dreadfull  dole  is  heref 
Eyes  do  you  fee/  How  can  it  beei 
O dainty  duck,  o  deare/ 
Thy  mantle  good, what,  ftaind  with  blood? 
Approach  ye  Furies  fell, 
O  fates  come,come,  cut  thread  and  thrumme, 
Quaile,ctufli,  conclude,  and  quelU 

Dnke.  This  paffion,^  the  death  of  a  dearefriend  would 
goeneereto  make  a  man  iooke  fad» 
Dutch.  Befhre  we  my  hearty  but  I  pitty  the  man* 
Pjrr,  O,  wherefore^ Nature^didft  thou  Lyons  fraraef 
Since  Lyon  vilde  hath  here  dcflour'd  my  deare. 
Which  is^no^  no ;  which  wasthe  faireft  dame 
That  h'u'd,  that  lou'd,  that  iik't,that  look'i  with  cheere. 
Come  teares,confound^  outfword,  and  wound 
Thcpappeof  Pyrammi 
I,  that  leftpappe,  where  heart  doth  hoppe* 
Thus  dy  I,  thus,thus,thus. 

No  w  am  I  dead,  now  am  I  fled,  my  foule  is  in  the  sky» 
Tongueloofethy  light, Moonetakc  thy  flight. 
Now  dy,dy,dy,dy^dy, 
Dm^bio  Die,  but  an  ace  for  him«For  he  is  butone^ 


A  Midfommer  nightes  drcame. 

Z,>/.  lefle  then  an  ace,nian.  For  he  is  dead,he  is  nothing. 

Dukf*  With  the  helpe  of  a  Surgcon,he  might  yet  rcco- 
ucr^and  yet  prooue  an  AiTe* 

Z>/y^ How  chance  Moone-fhine is  gone  before  !r^t/6y 
comes  backe^and  findesher!ouer> 

Duk;  Shee  will  findehim,  by  ftarre-light,  Hcie  fihee 
cotTies,andherpafIion  ends  the  Play, 

2)«jjMetbinkes^fhe  fhouldnot vfealongone,  forfuch 
HTvr^H^ :  I  hope,{he  will  be  briefe* 

Demet.  A  moth  will  turne  the  ballancejwhich  "^yramHs^ 
which TJ&i/^is  the  better :  hefor  a  man ;  God  warnd  vs : 
fhe/or  a  womanjGod  blefle  vs. 

Z.7/:Shchathfpiedhim  already, with  thofe  fwceteeycs^ 

©fWje'^Andthusfbcmeanes,  viielicet\ 

rks,  A  fleepe  my  loue?  What, dead  my  doue? 

Speake/pe  ake.  Quite  dumbefDead^deadUtumbe 

Muft  coucr  thy  fweetc  eyes. 

Therelilly  lippes,  this  cherry  nofe, 

Thercyellow  cowflippecheekes 

Arc  gon,  are  gon :  louers  make  mone: 

HIS  eyes  were  grcene,  as  leekes, 

O  fiftcrsthree^comejcome.tomee. 

With  hands  as  pale  as  milke. 

Lay  them  in  gore^finceyou  bauefhore 

With  aieercs,bisthrecdeof  filke. 

Tongue,  not  a  word :  come  ttufty  fword. 

Come  blade,mybreaft  imbrew: 

And  rarewellfricnds:thusT^;/^7  ends; 

Adieu^adieu,,adieu.  jl  j  j 

D«ir,(^^6«f?-A/>j^a3d  tj'^^warelefttobuty  the  dead* 

Lyon.  No^laffureyou^thewallisdowne,  that  parted 
tlieir  fathers.  Will  it  plcafe  you^to  fee  the  Epilogue,or  to 
beate  a  Basomaske  dauncc^bctwcen  two  of  our  copany? 
^  Hj  ^^^^ 


A  Midfommcr  nights  drcamc. 

Duke^  No  Epilogue,  Ipray  you*  For  your  Play  needs  no 
excufc.  Ncuer  cxcufe:  For  when  the  Players  are  all  dcade, 
there  nccde  none  to  be  blamed.  Mary,  ifhee  that  writ  it, 
had  played  T/Mw^y^andhangdhimfelfe  in  Thi[hies  gar- 
ter^ it  wouldfaaucbcene  a  fine  Tragedy :  and  foit  is  trucly, 
and  very  notably  difcharg'd.Butcome  your  Burgomaskej 
let  your  Epilogue  alone. 
The  iron  tongue  ofmidnighchath  toldetwelae. 
Loners  to  bed^tis  almofl  Fairy  time. 
I  feare  we  fliall  outfleepe  the  comming  mornej 
As  much  as  wee  thisnighthaue  ouerwatcht. 
This  palpable groffe  Play  hath  well  beguiPd 
The  hcauie  gate  of  night.  Sweete  friends,  to  bed* 
,  A  fortnight  holde  we  this  folemnitie. 
In  nightly  Rcucls,  and  new  iollity ,  Bxemt* 

*?»r;^.Now  thchungry  Lyonsroares, 
And  the  wolfe  beholds  the  Moonej 
Whilft  the  heauie  ploughman  fnores> 
All  with  weary  taskeforedoone. 
Now  the  wafted  brands  doe  glowc, 
Wh lift  the  fcriech-owle,fcricchinglowd. 
Puts  the  wretch^thatlyes  in  woe. 
In  remembrance  of  a  fhrowde* 
Now  it  is  the  time  of  night. 
That  the  graues,  all  gaping  wide, 
Euery  one  lets  forth  his  fprigh  t. 
In  the  Church  way  paths  to  glide. 
And  wee  Fairies, that  doe runne^ 
By  the  triple  Hecates  teame. 
From  the  prcfence  oftheSunne^ 
Following  darkeneflelike  a  drcame. 
Now  areffoHicfc:not  a  moufe 
Shali  difhirbe  this  hallowed  houfe. 
I  am  fcnr,with  broom e,bcforc, 

To 


358 


362 


366 


370 


37^ 


37H 


3^2 


AMidfbmmernightes  dreame. 

TO  fwcepc  tbc  duft,bchindc  the  dore. 

Ente>'  King  and  Queens  of  Fairies  ^with  all  theirtraif 
O^^Through  the  houfc  giue  glimmering  light. 
By  thedeadanddrowfie  iter, 
EucryElfeand  Fairy  fprigbt. 
Hop  as  light  asbirdemm  bricr^ 
And  this  dittie  after  mce^S  ing,a  nd  dauncc  it  trippingly, 

T/f*^.Firftrehear(eyourfong  by  rotCj 
TO  each  word  a  warbling  note. 
Hand  in  hand^with  Fairy  grace^ 
Will  we  fmg  and  blcflc  thisplace* 

O^.  Now,vntiII  thebreakeofday^ 
Through  this  houfCjCach  Fairy  flcay. 
TO  the  beft  bride  bed  will  wee: 
Whichby  vsfhallblefledbc: 
And  the  ifluc,therc  create, 
Euer  (hall  be  fortunate: 
So  fhall  all  the  couples  three 
Eucrtruc  in  iouiog  be: 
And  the  blots  of  natures  hand 
Shall  not  in  their  KTue  (land « 
Neuer  mole,  hare-lippe>nor  Tcane, 
Nor  matke  prodigious>ruch  as  ace 
Defpifedin  naduitie. 
Shall  vpon  their  children  be» 
Wich  this  field  dea  w  confecrate. 


Euerlhall  in  ftfccy  reft. 
And  the  owner  of  it  bicrft* 
Trippe  away :  make  no  flay: 
Meece  me  aU,by  breake  or  day^  E)iem 
Roin*i^  If  we  fliado  wes  h  auc  offended^ 
Thinke  but  this  (aad  ail  is  mendedj 


H4 


That 


A  Midlommer  nigntes  arcame. 

That  you  haue  but  flum bred  here, 
While  thefe  vi/ions  did  appeared 
And  this  weake  and  idle  cheame. 
No  moreyiclding  but  a  dreamc, 
Genties,  doe  not  reprehend. 
Ifyou  pardon,  wee  will  rnend^ 
Andjaslam  mhoneRTftci^ 
If  we  haue  vnearned  luck. 
Now  to  fcape  the  Serpents  tongue. 
We  will  make  amends,  ere  long: 
Elfe,the  ?/w:/^a  Iyer  call. 
So^good  night  vntoyou  all. 
Giuemeyour  hand$,ifwe  be  friends; 
And  Roiin  fhali  reftore  amends^ 


FINIS. 


